


The Feeling of Forgetting

by ConsultingInquisitor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, Confusion, Drarry, Eventual relationship, Hogwarts, I mean It goes with Canon, I promise, M/M, Pre-Half-Blood Prince, Year 6th, a bit - Freeform, semi canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingInquisitor/pseuds/ConsultingInquisitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco starts to feel the pressures of bearing the Dark Mark when a few months into 6th year, he starts to notice that Harry Potter is staring at him more than his usual odd-obsessive-stalking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Looks

**Author's Note:**

> This was only supposed to be a quick one-shot for my first fanfiction but then I couldn't stop myself from writing more. It has developed quite a bit from the original plot.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry was staring at Draco and it was getting on his last nerve.

Draco noticed that, for the past couple of hours, Harry fucking Potter was looking in his direction every ten minutes. Not that _he_ was watching Harry. That would be preposterous. But it had been obvious that Harry was keeping a constant eye on him today. For example, during Defense Against the Dark Arts, the first class of the day, and Harry was too busy giving him this odd look to block a Jelly-Legs Jinx that even Longbottom could have seen coming. 

Now it was lunch and Draco was pointedly looking at his food. He felt like he was forgetting something important. Pansy nudged him rather hard causing him to spill his water into his lap. He glared at her as she laughed “Sorry, sweetie.” She used a quick drying spell before glancing to the side. “You know, Potter keeps looking over here like he has something on his mind. Not that much goes on up there, I’m sure” she laughed louder at her own joke.

“The mental capacity of that idiot is of no concern to me. He couldn’t figure out how to put his quill to paper if that Mudblood didn’t show him how every day.” The word ‘Mudblood’ didn’t roll off his tongue as easily as it used to. Not since August. Draco shuddered. 

But, if Pansy noticed Harry’s stares then he wasn’t being paranoid and Harry _was_ being obvious about it. Something was going on and he didn’t like that he couldn’t figure it out. Half a day of this nonsense and he still didn’t know. Draco scowled while he thought of some reason why today was ‘Surveillance on Draco Malfoy Day’. He froze, what if Harry had found out about the Room of Hidden Things in the Room of Requirement?

Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table. Harry was chatting animatedly to Weasley about something but wasn’t looking at him. Harry's eyes were still on Draco. He quickly looked away and feigned interest in whatever Pansy was going on about. “… _and_ you never showed up to our study session, by the way, I’m quite cross with you about that. I had to sit next to Millicent Bulstrode.”

Draco’s eyes slid back over to the Golden Trio and watched slightly amused as Harry made a comment that made Weasley snort on his drink and come out his nose. As he laughed, Harry glanced up and slowly stopped laughing, a weird smile coming to settle on his lips, but his eyes still held the mirth of the situation. Draco felt his face flush and he quickly turned back to Pansy.

“Obsessing over Potter again?” She said teasingly. Draco looked at her, puzzled. He doesn’t remember ever looking at Harry as much as he has in the past 4 hours.

—————————

They were in Charms when Harry was too busy trying to inconspicuously glance at Draco to realize that Professor Flitwick was addressing him. _What an idiot._

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter.” Professor Flitwick called again. Harry jumped and snapped his head in the direction of Professor Flitwick’s voice, knocking his ink all over his and Weasley’s desk. 

“Sorry Professor,” Harry looked up sheepishly, “what was the question?”

“Since you have so gracefully spilled ink all over the desk, why don’t you demonstrate how to properly Vanish an object,” said Professor Flitwick smiled, “or in this case, liquid”. Harry nodded, pushing his up his glasses. Draco noticed a blush rising to Harry’s cheeks. Harry took a deep breath, held it, released it and pulled out his wand. 

Clearing his throat he said “Evanesco” with a wave and dip of his wand over the mess. Draco nearly choked on air as he tried not to laugh. Harry had successfully Vanished not only his spilled ink and soiled parchment but everything on his desk and the ones next to him. Harry blinked as the room grew eerily silent. Harry’s face started to turn a shade darker as his mouth opened to apologize, but just then Weasley had burst out laughing, breaking the silence. He was laughing so hard that he had begun wheezing. Harry playfully hit Weasley on the shoulder muttering “Shut up, Ron.” This just made Weasley laugh harder and the wheezing got louder and now he was clutching his side. The other students started laughing and even Draco chuckled a bit because Weasley sounded like a dying Troll. Draco was too busy trying not to laugh outright that he almost missed Harry smiling in his direction, the blush had turned his ears red.

“All right, settle down, settle down.” Professor Flitwick waved his want and everything was back and in perfect order. “Now, Mr. Potter has demonstrated why control and practice are so important in Charms. I want you all to write me 3 feet on what Vanishing an object feels like before, during, and after doing the spell.” A collective groan sounded in the room, except Granger, of course. Draco collected his things once they were dismissed and chanced a glance at Harry. Their eyes met and Draco felt a twinge in his chest. Draco quickly looked away and scurried out the door to potions. What was that?

———————

Draco rubbed his chest for the tenth time in the past hour as he brooded over the last 6 hours. Why was potions going by so incredibly slow? Why did it have to be a Double Potions day? Sighing, he continued to cut his Mandrake root. Harry had always been terrible at following Draco in the past, but this was getting ridiculous. He measured out half a cup of the Mandrake root and placed it into the cauldron. He hadn’t even done anything dramatic to merit a stalking yet! Well, no, that wasn’t true. He did curse Katie Bell a few weeks ago, but no one _knew_ it had been him. Plus, that had been more of a way to bide his time. There wasn’t a real reason for Harry to… Unless he knew. Unless he knew what had happened the past summer, what Draco was _supposed_ to do. 

But it was almost the holiday, why would Harry all of a sudden take interest today? He couldn’t have found the vanishing cabinet, but then again, it was Harry Potter. If anyone was going to catch Draco, it would be him. It was always Harry Potter. Harry always seemed to show up when he was at his lowest. How long had Harry been following him? Draco couldn’t remember. Days? Weeks? Since school started? Draco had just noticed it this morning after breakfast. He was sure it had just started today but when he thought back to the past couple months… He frowned. He couldn’t remember noticing Harry “spying” on him at all. Just the usual run-ins and snarky comments. There was the physical fight they had at the Quidditch Pitch, but he couldn’t remember the reason they had fought. All he remembered was lunging at Harry and the pain in his jaw. It was more of a scuffle then a full-fledged fight. 

Draco mentally shook himself as he added a cup of Bitterroot to the mortar and began to grind it into a fine powder. The stress of the task he had been assigned was messing with his mind. The dread of being found out was distracting him. The terror of his poorly laid out plan failing was taking over his thoughts. How was he supposed to keep track of Harry as well?

Draco swallowed, if Harry knew what the Dark Lord had told Draco to do, then Harry would have gone to Dumbledore. If Dumbledore knew, maybe… No. He couldn’t think that way. No one could save him. Not even Harry. He shouldn’t hope that someone else was going to save him.

Harry wasn’t smart enough to figure out that Draco wanted help last year. The boneheaded-Gryffindor couldn’t piece everything together by himself. But Granger, she could. It wasn’t like Draco was being extremely careful in covering his tracks these days. It was all beginning to be too much. He couldn’t put off fixing the Vanishing Cabinet any more. The last contact he had in Hogsmeade had been less than pleasant. In reply to his seemingly botched attempt on Dumbledore’s life with the Opal Neckless, he had received a lock of his mother’s hair, the tops dusted with blood. It still made him shudder. He didn’t ask for this, but then again, he had accepted to serve and received the Dark Mark. 

He paused in his grinding. He didn’t have time for this stupid potion. He needed a plan. He needed to figure out how to keep at least Mother safe, that was the point. He was a Slytherin, he could do that at least. 

This class was a waste of his time. He could be killed because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. That was stupid. His participation in the war, his purpose, was stupid. The punishment of his Father for failing. Draco knew, of course, he knew. He was supposed to fail. It was the perfect excuse for the Dark Lord to kill him. Make his family an example. 

Frustrated, Draco didn’t realize he had begun to stir clockwise instead of counter-clockwise. As he added two teaspoons of ginger and the powdered Bitterroot, he noticed the brew start to turn a sickly black as opposed to a soft pink. 

_Shit._ He Vanished the potion. _Fuck. Fuck this._ He slammed his book back onto the table, shoved his books inside. As he left, his book bag sideswiped the class cauldron and knocked it to the floor. He didn’t stop. Even when he banged the door open, ignoring Slughorn calling him back, he kept walking. He didn’t care anyway. Slughorn was an idiot and he had important things to do. The Dark Lord chose him. Chose him to do this task. If, if he didn’t come up with something believable… He pushed the thoughts away as he made his way down the corridor.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Harry, and his two idiot friends. Draco noticed Harry didn’t look like he had been sleeping. _What do I care if Harry hasn’t been sleeping? And when the_ ** _fuck_** _did I start calling Potter, Harry!?_ Shaking his head he pulled his anger forward and made for Harry. He didn’t care anymore. How dare Harry come waltzing in his way when he was panicking. Anger he knew, he could deal with anger.

“Why do you keep staring at me, Potter!?” Draco sneered as he pushed Harry against the stone wall, hard. Harry looked shocked but shot his friends a quick look. The rustle of clothing indicated that they had moved to pull Draco off of him.

“And why would I be staring at you, Malfoy?” Harry snorted, he looked like he was in pain and seemed to brace himself as he said “feeling guilty for cursing Katie Bell?”

“Shut UP!” Draco snarled, his voice cracking. He shoved his forearm against Harry’s neck and grabbed his bisect to pin Harry against the wall. “Just shut up, Potter! You don’t know what you are talking about!” Draco could feel Harry’s arms move and he tensed. Harry’s hands hovered for a few seconds near Draco’s hips before he clenched them closed. Draco was panting and slightly shaking with adrenaline. He didn’t notice how close his face had gotten to Harry and now that he did, he couldn’t help but notice how green Harry’s eyes were. Or that they flicked down to- Harry shoved Draco away, causing him to stumble.

“Don’t fucking touch me again, Malfoy,” Harry spat, looking at the floor, his face red and trembling from anger. Harry picked up his bag that he had dropped and hit Draco with his shoulder as he walked past to Potions. Granger and Weasley didn’t move for a moment. Granger bent down to pick something up but stopped halfway, sighing and they both followed Harry to class. Draco let out a shuddering breath before continuing his solitary walk. Why did he feel so terrible now? He had this heavy feeling in his gut. Rubbing his chest, he picked up the thing Granger didn’t pick up. It was his Potions book. Running his hand through his hair, he closed his eyes and leaned his back against the cool stone wall. He just needed to fly for a bit, clear his head…

———————-

Flying was one thing Draco could never get tired of doing, he could fly all night if the school didn’t ward off the Practice and Quidditch Pitch. Very little was better than flying. The air rushing past him, adrenaline pumping through his veins, blood pounding in his ears, and his mind focus on nothing except for the feeling of freedom. That grin-worthy-fear that felt like a bit like vertigo. He didn’t want to stop feeling it. He didn’t want to be caged anymore. The winter air was crisp as it burned his lungs as he breathed and froze his nose pink. Even with chapped lips, numb fingers, and the wind lashing about his face until it hurt, flying was worth it. 

Draco made his way around the Pitch slowly, starting from the top of the stands and working his way down. No one was here for practice yet because classes were still in session. He raised his hands above his head and his broom began to dip forward. Draco closed his eyes, letting it drop straight down and savored the feeling of falling. For a few seconds, it was as if nothing else existed, just gravity and him. Draco quickly took hold of his broom and entered a tailspin. Just a little bit further. The ground was coming up fast. Just a bit longer. A foot from the ground and he pulls up, the bristles of his broom skidding along the snow covered grass as he shoots straight across the rest of the pitch. He starts laughing as he weaves between the goal posts. It starts with a quite snort until it bubbles out louder. He guides his broom to his spot of grass in front of the Black Lake. Before he can reach it, his body is shaking too much from laughing and tumbles off of his broom. Summersaulting feet over head onto his back, Draco tries to catch his breath but can’t seem to stop laughing long enough. _I should probably be more concerned about my sanity._ The thought alone is enough to make him laugh that much harder until he is wheezing like Weasley and tears are stinging his eyes but he’ll insist it’s just the wind.

Draco ran his hands through his hair as he laid there in the snow, gulping in air, trying to level out his breathing. When he stopped his fit of giggles, he took a controlled breath and clenched his jaw. Slowly, he opened his eyes and relaxed his body. It was actually a pretty nice evening for mid-December. The sun was still out and the breeze wasn’t unbearably cold. The sun was warming him up enough to take off his cloak.If he wasn’t already feeling the melting snow creep through his clothing, he would have.

Draco let his mind wander. He didn’t want to do any of this. He didn’t want to be part of this war anymore. Purebloods, muggle-borns, half-bloods. Logically, Purebloods were dying out, most wizards had at least one muggle ancestor. If he was honest with himself, he would have never accepted the Dark Mark if it wasn’t for his mother and… a feeling. He loved his father, but it was his father who had made all the decisions that put their family in this situation. They should have fled to America or anywhere but here like Mother had suggested. Deep down though, Draco knew that the Dark Lord would come after them.

This wasn’t the first time Draco pondered if his upbringing was really a disadvantage as opposed to an advantage. When he was younger, he hadn’t felt all the animosity and hostility towards muggles. On the contrary, he found them fascinating. He often had Dobby sneak him muggle books that he read under his blankets in the middle of the night. Dobby would grab him anything from fashion magazines to school textbooks. Draco’s favorite had always been the fairy-tales. He always imagined himself the hero. The dashing knight rushing in to save the damsel from the evil dragon. His father had been furious when he found the small collection and Incendio’d it all in front of him. He had been 7.

Since he’d gotten to Hogwarts, Draco had been second guessing himself left and right. He was so confused and angry that he pinned it all on everyone else, especially Gryffindor. Especially Harry Potter. If he was honest with himself, he was angry that he hadn’t been smart enough to think for himself since he was 7. He was too scared to defy his father again so he listened and absorbed everything his father had told him. Believed in him. His father was his hero. Until he wasn’t the strong, proud man Draco looked up to.

When Umbrage had slowly taken over Hogwarts, Draco started to think of acting out against his father and the Dark Lord. That woman was terrifying. He doesn’t even know why he joined the Inquisitors Squad. He doesn’t remember why he even volunteered to spend extra time breathing the same air in the same room as Umbrage. Honestly, if he remembered correctly, he had grown concerned about the growing number of students with odd scars on their non-dominant hand. He heard rumors of her medieval punishments. He was too much of a coward then. 

He didn’t want to be on either side of the war since the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament in 4th year. When Cedric Diggory died, when the Dark Lord became a reality. Until that moment, it had all be theoretical. If the Dark Lord rises again, if the Dark lord calls upon us, if the Dark lord wants us to go to war, if the Dark Lord wants to murder and torture muggles and enslave the muggle-born and the half-bloods. It was always “if”, never “when”. Not until it was already happening. Until it was too late to say “no.”

Was it possible to play the Dark Lord, to be a spy? A better spy than Harry, that was for sure. Draco was extremely intelligent and resourceful. He was top of the class, only second to Granger. While on the subject of Granger, his only problem with her now was that her marks were better than his. She was definitely more clever and knowledgeable than even the adult Purebloods. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was smarter than every Pureblood, Draco being the exception, of course. Not that he would admit that aloud. She was still an annoying know-it-all. Draco huffed, he had been letting his grades slip this year due to all the extra pressure he was under. What did any of it matter anymore? He rubbed his chest. Would it even matter if he helped Harry’s side? Would it save Mother? or had the Malfoy name condemned her as well? Could he fix it? Could he make up for all his poor decisions and past mistakes? Probably not, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try, right? Be a little foolish? Be a little Gryffindor?

Shaking his head, Draco sighed. His hair was dripping wet and the snow had soaked through his cloak. The chill from the wind bit at his skin and all the way to his bones. He picked up his broom, got up, and headed toward the locker rooms. The sun was almost setting, he might as well go to the Great Hall to drink a nice cup of tea to settle his nerves before heading to The Room of Requirement. But first, a hot shower. 


	2. The Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes some discoveries that make less sense than Harry Potter's staring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

Draco started to shiver enough to cause his teeth to chatter and bite his tongue. Cursing, he hurried into the Slytherin locker room, placed his broom on the racks and shoved his wet cloak inside his locker. He grabbed his towel from the top shelf before taking off his shoes and socks. Draco scrunched up his nose, he tried to quickly undo his shirt, but his numb fingers fumbling with the fourth button. Too cold to wait, he pulled the rest of the shirt over his head and threw it into the bottom of his locker. Discarding the rest of his clothes, Draco wrapped the towel around his waist and briskly walked to the showers. He had just happened to catch his reflection in the large mirror above the sinks, otherwise he wouldn’t have noticed the red splotchy marks just under his left collarbone.

“Wh-wh-what the bloody hell!?” Draco blinked several times, turned around walked to the showers. Nope, he was hallucinating. His collar was perfectly fine, there weren't thin lines that could possibly connect together to make a word. He walked with determination to the very last shower stall. Keeping his eyes level with the tile he turned on the shower and got in. This was somehow _Potter’s_ fault. He didn’t ask himself why he pulled that logic out of his ass, it was just a habit he had acquired this year. Draco’s potion explodes it was Potter’s fault. Draco ripped his essay for Charms, Potter’s fault. Draco has a mysterious scar that weren’t there this morning… Wait. Were they there this morning? He hadn’t noticed but then again, he doesn’t exactly look at himself make in front of a mirror. Draco looked down at his toes, he couldn’t have seen his collar this way. Draco closed his eyes and moved so the water hit the top of his head. Why did these things have to happen to him? He didn’t need more scars, he’d collected enough. It could have happened at Quidditch, he could have just imagined the shapes the lines made. Or when he had destroyed some of the objects in the Room of Hidden Things. Who was he kidding, it could have been there for a while. Draco opened his eyes and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. A spell, perhaps? Some of the other Slytherin’s had been looking at him suspiciously like they know how he really feels about the War. Not to mention everyone in the other houses. Too many suspects to accurately determine who could have cursed him. But when, that he could try to pin down. Draco thought back through the days, through the weeks. The last thing he could remember was clearly was the fight between him and Harry on the Quidditch Pitch. No, that was not true. Draco couldn’t remember the details of that fight. After, what happened after? _Either I cornered Harry or he cornered me on the way to class a few weeks ago._ He _could_ remember thinking about how green Harry’s eyes were. Or maybe it was just that shade of green that was the clearest. But was that a dream or just the last time Draco had glanced at him? It wasn’t unusual for him to… to have a dream about Harry. Draco pursed his lips, not that he’d admit it to anyone. It wasn’t like they were _those_ kinds of dreams, anyway. The kind of dreams he hears Greg and Blaise share. 

For a few weeks he’s had the same dream over and over again. It was just quick glimpses of them. Them laughing together while studying, them fighting in the hallways, walking close together, accidental brushing of hands, more laughing, flying together, blushing, more fighting, Draco trying to study in Gryffindor Common room, Harry laying on Draco’s bed complaining about his head hurting. The beginning was always nice until it wasn’t. Harry staring at his arm, at the dark mark and looking betrayed, Harry crying because he knows and why didn’t he ask for help, Harry trembling as he cries over Draco’s bleeding body on the ground, Harry walking away, Draco at the Manor alone, Harry lifeless in arms, Draco running and throwing Harry his wand, Draco turning as he hears his mother's voice, green eyes, then nothing. The darkness holds for a while as someone screams his name. He always wakes up sweaty and more tired than when he went to bed. He’s been taking Dreamless Sleep potions from Madam Pomfrey for a few days now.

Draco put his palms flat on the tile as he glared straight at the smooth surface, the hot water hitting the base of his neck. He couldn’t help but blame everything on Harry; Potter if he was extremely ticked-off that day. Draco’s thoughts seemed to always be pulling back to Harry. That’s why Draco would miss brew potions. That’s why his quill tip would snag on his parchment and he wouldn’t be paying attention and would continue writing, causing a large tear down the middle. It wasn’t enough that Harry took up most of his thoughts, but his eyes would scan a room for him. He had even done it in the Slytherin common room once or twice out of habit. Even now, when he should be focusing on the odd mark on his skin, he was thinking of Harry. Draco sniffed, _it’s because Harry is hard to read these days_ , he tells himself.

Shaking his head quickly finished washing up. He needed to take a better look at the worrying lines that marred his skin. Trying to ignore it wasn’t going to do him any good. Especially because, no matter how hard he scrubbed at it, the pale lines weren’t coming off.

______________________________________________________________________

Draco decided that the best course of action was to get half dressed and stand with his back to the full-length mirror that hung on the wall, next to the row of sinks. Maybe it wouldn’t be there now that he had finished the shower. _Yeah and maybe I’m the Emperor of China._ He let out a shaky breath as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. 

“Just turn around and look. Stop being a coward.” Draco muttered. He turned. The first thing his eyes were drawn to was the Dark Mark, black and intimidating against his fair skin. He hated it. It’s why he hadn’t looked at himself properly in a mirror since summer and the reason why he had missed the new mark he now bared. Forcing his eyes away, he stepped closer to the mirror and focused on his collar. Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. Sitting just under his protruding collarbone was a single word. 

“Always” he read aloud, his voice slightly quivering. It was in his own handwriting. Draco took another tentative step forward causing the toe of his shoe to touch the bottom on the mirror. It looked like he took his quill and carved it into his skin. If he could read it, then that meant that it was written backward. Draco’s fingers trembled as they touched the tail of the cursive “y”. It didn’t hurt, but the skin was slightly raised. _Definitely a scar,_ Draco thought as his fingers traced the rest of the letters. There was something significant about this word, but he couldn’t place it. He had a nagging feeling that he should know what it meant.

Even more worrisome was that he didn’t know _when_ it had happened, it was in _his_ handwriting. There was no way anyone at Hogwarts was clever enough to curse him without his knowledge, except Granger and himself. Draco ran his fingertips across the letters. _It’s worth a try._ Draco went to his locker, retrieved his wand and walked back to the mirror.

“Aparecium,” Draco said in a clear voice while giving the juncture between ‘w’ and ‘a’ a tap. Nothing happened. “Shit,” he breathed out as he let his forehead rest against the mirror. “Aparecium” he tapped again. “Aparecium. Aparecium. Aparecium.” Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. He stood for a moment just staring at the script, the hand holding his wand falling back to his side. What else could he do? He couldn’t exactly go to Madam Pomfrey and show her. Draco snorted. He could just see how that conversation would go, “oh hey, Madam Pomfrey. How are you? Oh, I’m alright, except, I have ‘Always’ in reverse carved into my skin. Take off my shirt so you can see? No problem, just ignore that Dark Mark. It’s just ink. Comes right off with soap and warm water.” There was bound to be other students in the Hospital Wing and knowing his luck, it would be the trio of Gryffindors. No, he couldn’t-wouldn’t do that. For some god-forsaken reason, the thought of them finding out was enough to punch a hole in his gut. 

Draco turned away from the mirror and walked to stand in front of his locker, clutching his wand. Draco didn’t even know if this was a curse. He grabbed a clean shirt and sat down on a bench as he slipped the shirt on and buttoned it. Logically speaking, it _could_ be a curse done by someone else to drive him crazy with paranoia. It could explain why he thinks Harry is constantly watching him. Wouldn’t that be ingenious. He brushed his knuckles back and forth across his chest, distractedly. Another possibility would be a curse that made him doubt his own sanity. What if he was simply losing time and he had done this to himself? Did that mean that the Dark Mark could control him? No, that would be crazy. A shudder ran through him. Now wouldn’t that be terribly alarming. It would explain why the Dark Lord let him come back to school, an easy way back into Hogwarts.

Draco was vaguely aware of the torches around the room coming to life. A few moments passed before a sudden movement snapped his attention away from his thoughts and his eyes focused on the entrance to the locker room. _Was that? No. That would make zero sense. Why would Harry Potter be in the Slytherin Lockers so close to curfew?_ Draco stood up. He just needed to sleep. That’s all this was. Lack of sleep has been known to cause bouts of paranoia. Draco gathered his things and headed to the Slytherin Common Room.


	3. The Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco feels like is is losing the battle he hasn't started yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

It had been a week since Draco discovered his new “tattoo.” A week of pretending he didn’t notice Harry staring at him. A week of avoiding him. A week of not trying to figure out how Harry managed to follow him throughout the castle. A week of sleepless nights due to the same dream ending in a green that was not the color of Harry Potter’s eyes. Sighing rather loudly, Draco adjusted his tie as he walked down the corridor. It was the Slug Club Christmas Party. He had been trying to gather enough courage to talk to Snape. Snape was Draco’s Godfather, he could trust him. Well, his mother had told him he could and he trusted his mother. Right? He wasn’t actually speeding up his inevitable end, right? Of course, he was always right. Most of the time. 

Draco stopped walking as he came to the door to the “party.” He would go inside, ask to speak to Snape, then ask him for help. Keep it simple and clean. Draco mechanically stuck out his hand to grasp the handle, turned around and walked back the way he came. He was being stupid, this was stupid. No matter what their relation, Snape was still a marked Death Eater. So was Draco but he didn’t want to be when it happened. What was the likelihood that Snape was a defector? Who was he kidding, this was the most idiotic, ill-planned, unthought-out plan he had ever-

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Skulking about in the corridors, trying to disrupt a function you are not privileged to be invited to?” Filch grabbed Draco by the scruff of his jacket. “Let us go inside and see how Mr. Slughorn feels about this, shall we?” _Well, shit._ Draco thought as Filch jerked him back towards the Slug Club Party.

Scowling as Filch opened the door to Slughorn’s office, Draco noticed how many people were actually there. Begrudgingly he allowed himself to be hauled through the room until Filch had brought him to the middle of the crowded room. Draco’s eyes met Harry’s briefly. Draco paled. Draco could feel Harry’s eyes on him as Filch shook him. “Caught him trying to gate crash, Professor.” Before Draco could object, Snape quickly grabbed him by his upper arm.

“Allow me, Professor Slughorn. As his head of house, I will take responsibility,” Snape was already dragging Draco out the door when Slughorn mumbled out an affirmative reply. Snape took him around the corner before he said in a hushed tone“What are you doing, Draco?”

“Nothing. I wasn’t doing what he said I was.” Draco ripped his arm from Snape’s grasp and looked hard at the floor. “I wasn’t. I was-”

“Listen to me, Draco. I’m trying to help you. Let me help you. I swore to your mother that I would protect you. I made an Unbreakable Vow, Draco-” Draco’s head snapped up.

“I don’t need your protection! He gave me the job. I, I have a plan. It is just taking a bit longer than I thought. He chose me. You’re just trying to trick me, you-” Draco cut off his half-hearted declarations with a slight shake of his head. “You made an Unbreakable Vow with mother?”

“Yes, now Draco, tell me what it is so that I can help you.” Snape gently but firmly grasped Draco by his shoulders. Draco was just about to reply when Snape whipped his head around to look back down the corridor. “My office.” Snape immediately began to walk in the direction they had been heading. Draco stood a moment longer, looking down the corridor in the direction of Slughorn’s office. He could have sworn he saw a pair of black shoes. Draco turned back around and walked to Snape’s office, scratching his chest.

______________________

“What were you doing there, Draco?” Snape asked once Draco shut the door. Snape was already pacing behind his desk, hands clasped behind his back.

“I was there looking for you. I’ve been-I was trying-” Draco smoothed his hair back from his face. He took a deep breath to calm himself before trying again. “I don’t want to follow through with this.” Draco straightened his back and lifted his chin, “I don’t want to be a Death Eater.” He held his breath. This was it. Was he going to die for speaking up or- Snape rounded on him.

“You should have came to me sooner. I could have- your mother, father and I could have snuck you out of the country! What were you thinking!?” Draco took a step back but only to glare evenly at Snape without going cross-eyed.

“I wanted to protect them! All of them!” Draco stilled. Who was all of them? He took another step back to camouflage his confusion. “It didn’t look like I had a choice, now did it? He is in the manor, Professor! All summer. He creeps along the rooms. He is like a disease invading the manor. He-” Draco closed his eyes, “He doesn’t have to say it out loud for everyone to know that He is using mother’s life as leverage. Then when He asked me to take the mark, how could I refuse?” Draco backed away from Snape and took over pacing, “then, not even an hour later, He asked me to accept a job that ‘only I could do,’ father looked so, so _proud._ But I knew, Professor, I knew that if I refused He would kill her.”

“What was your plan, Draco?” Snape looked exasperated as he went back behind his desk to sit. He took out a piece of parchment and started to write in blue ink.

“I know you know that He expects me to kill Dumbledore, that much should be obvious, especially to you. You aren’t an idiot like the rest of them. I’m the least likely to actually complete the task and that is what makes it brilliant. When I first took the mark, my original plan was to take my time with the Vanishing Cabinet…” Snape was giving him a strange look. Draco was too frustrated to realize that Snape had stopped writing. “I’ve executed a poor plan to curse Dumbledore and…” Whenever Draco thought back, certain details were still fuzzy. Minor details, but details none the less. Like now, Draco remembered that he had a plan but who was involved, who he could trust, those were unclear. “I had more of a plan than ‘keep my head down and somehow break down His plans from the inside’ but I can’t remember them.” Snape was suddenly in front of him and grabbed Draco’s chin to keep him still. Draco held his breath, was he wrong for trusting his Godfather? Was this his final mistake? Snape pulled up on Draco’s right eyelid, then his left.

“Draco. Do you remember coming to my office at the beginning of term?” His voice is calm but his eyes full of genuine concern. How is it possible for the blood to simultaneously bound in your ears and yet leave you feeling cold? 

“I What?” Draco is surprised when his voice doesn’t tremble along with his body.

_____________________________________

This couldn’t be happening. “Draco.” He was missing time. “Draco, listen to me.” What else didn’t he remember? “Draco, I need you to answer me.” Was he being Imperius’d? Was it the mark? “DRACO!” Draco’s head snapped up, blinking wildly. When had he slid down to sit on the floor? “Draco. I need you to calm down.” He was calm. Completely calm. Yeah, maybe he was slightly hyperventilating and just a tick away from a panic attack, but that was only to be expected. Draco placed his hand on his chest as he tried to regulate his breathing, focusing on Snape’s voice. “Have you noticed anything else, anything out of the ordinary?” Draco shook his head but paused. Draco looked down at his hand on his chest. He nodded. “What?”

“I have the word ‘Always’ etched into my skin.” Draco took off his tie, unbuttoned the first couple buttons on his shirt and stopped, “it’s in my handwriting.” He can’t believe he hadn’t thought to ask Snape before. Pulling the shirt open, Draco turned his head away, unable to look at Snape. He was embarrassed for being so stupid. Especially if this was a curse.Snape didn’t say anything as he observed the inverted word. A few moments of awkward silence passed before Snape sniffed sharply and stood back up, tucking his wand back in his jacket as he walked to a bookcase. Draco hadn’t noticed him use it.

“What does this phrase mean to you?” Snape asked.

“I don’t know” Draco sighed.

“What is it’s significance to you?” 

“I said I don’t know!” Draco stood up, frustrated.

“Why did you choose this word.” Snape sounded bored. That is what pushed Draco’s temper.

“I don’t remember! What don’t you understand! I can’t remember! The only thing I remember is green. I see Harry everywhere, it’s like he’s following me. It’s as if he knows what is happening! He is always around! I don’t know what ‘Always’ is supposed to mean, I don’t know what I have forgotten. I. Don’t. Remember.” Draco slammed both of his hands on Snape’s desk, panting heavily. “I only remember being on my own in here until I came to you an hour ago.”

“The magical signature on that marking is your own.” Snape appeared unaffected by the outburst. “That is not causing the memory loss…I am not quite sure what is the reason for it. Not yet.” He plucked a black book from its place on the shelf. “You have been working with Dumbledore and myself since your 4th year when He came back from the apparent dead.” Snape walked unhurriedly back to his chair, flipping through the book. “You have been delivering messages all summer to us about His movements and plans. Dumbledore and I have been helping you come up with suitable plans to appease Him.” Snape placed the book in front of Draco. There, staring up at him, was his handwriting. He didn’t recognize the words. These entries were from this past summer. _June 20th, He is bringing muggles to the Manor. June 24th, They are torturing and killing muggle sympathizers_. “Somewhere in your trunk, you have a book identical to this one, but it is empty. It sends this book your messages but leaves no trace of the original message that you wrote.” Snape flipped the pages to the last entry, _September 15th, I think the Snitch suspects that I had something to do with Bell._ “That” Snape taped the word ‘Snitch,’ “is Potter. You were supposed to keep an eye on him when that Umbridge woman took over. You joined the Inquisitor’s Squad as a screen. It was my understanding that you had even foolishly contacted Potter.” Snape sneered “You had informed me that you had told him that you wanted to defect. I voiced my concerns for your carelessness. Needless to say, it fell on deaf ears.”

Draco leaned heavily on his hands still on the desk. He was shaking, eyes wide and unseeing. He didn’t remember any of this. It sounded as if he had known what he was doing the entire time. From the moment he decided to take the mark, he had been in control. He let out a shaky breath as his mind raced. For the first time, he was in complete control and he didn’t remember. Did someone Obliviate him? It didn’t sound like he had done it to himself. But it didn’t rule him out. It really didn’t rule anyone out. 

“Professor, is there a way to find out?” His voice sounded odd, strained.

“I could use Legilimency, but I do not know if it could help, especially since you are gifted in Occlumency. Regardless, it may be worth a try.” Snape placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder in a comforting manner. Snape gave a light squeeze before releasing him. “Not tonight. Nothing good will come from it tonight. Tomorrow, everyone will be traveling back to their homes for the holidays. The castle will be mostly empty and there will be less distractions. Owl your mother tonight, tell her you will stay here to study for your OWLs.” Snape walked around his desk and sat in his chair. Picking up his quill, Snape said, “come to my office on Sunday. We will discuss how to move forward once you have had time to think about what else could be amiss. Look for the book.” Snape was scribbling away at the old looking parchment again, this time in red ink.

Draco felt numb as he nodded and left Snape’s office without a word.


	4. The Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When will things start to make sense?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

Sunday had come and Draco had not located the book. He had headed to Snape’s office that afternoon. He had let himself hope that they could figure it all out. Hope that it was possible for the memory loss to be a simple side effect of the mark. Maybe he had just reacted to it different than the other Death Eaters. Such high hopes. He should have known better. He was Draco Malfoy. Nothing ever turned out the way he’d hoped. Things only went well when he planned them _after_ reality blew up in his face.

It all appeared to had gone smoothly. When Snape cast Ligilimens, Draco relaxed and allowed Snape to filter through his memories. He could see Harry following him. All the glances, the secret smiles, the avoidance. The fights. His reoccurring dream. The fight on the Quidditch Pitch. Then… That is when things went wrong. There was light. A copper taste in his mouth. The smell of burning flesh. Draco felt himself start to fight against Snape’s prodding. Draco was panting as the room twisted back to the present, the smell of herbs back in the hair, but his lungs still burned. “We will try again after Christmas. Relax and rest.” 

“Relax” Draco muttered under his breath as he dug through his trunk. Here he was, two days later and Snape telling him to “relax” was _still_ the most ridiculous thing in the world. 

Draco stood up as he impersonated Snape, “relax and rest, Draco. Go, rummage about in your room for that very important book you can’t remember ever seeing.” Draco huffed a laugh “What a lark. How am I to find an object which I have no recollection of having? It’s worse than being Longbottom.” He continued with his ‘rummaging,’ “would a Remembrall work even if I my memory had been tampered with?” 

It was almost midnight and he could not find that stupid book. Growling, Draco dumped out the entire contents of the trunk onto his bed, some clothes spilling over the side. Something hard hit the floor. It sounded like a coin. That was unusual. His coins were all in one place. Placing his trunk on Greg’s bed, he knelt on the floor peering under the bed. He could have sworn he heard it roll over…

Ah Ha! He stretched his arm under his bed and plucked up the coin. Draco sat on the floor, flipping the coin over in his hand. It looked like a regular Galleon. He ran his finger over the edge. It felt like the one he was using to keep in contact with Madam Rosmerta. _The spell was the same, but this isn’t that coin._ Draco sat back on his heels as he dug around in his trouser pocket until his fingers brushed the Sickle. It was less conspicuous in his opinion. Everyone had loose Sickles laying about. Draco absently used the Galleon to scratch his chest as he considered it’s existence. He remembered seeing these. It was slightly blurry but, didn’t Dumbledore’s Army use a Galleon to communicate? What was it doing in his trunk? Hadn’t he gotten the idea for the Sickle from the DA?

Draco groaned as he placed both coins into his pocket. Aggravated, he dragged his trunk to the floor. Leaning on his knees over all his things on the bed, he unceremoniously dropped all of it into his trunk. Draco crawled to the other side of his bed and sat down. Scrunching up his nose as he pondered about the coin, Draco threw his clothes into the trunk. Just as he was about stand he noticed an odd mark on his bed-frame. There was a crudely carved snitch with a crack on its circular body. It couldn’t be bigger than his thumbnail. When he tried to take a closer look, he surged forward and hit his head on the corner the frame. “Merlin’s pants!” _That will leave a mark._ Rubbing his forehead, he heard the sound of something solid fall. He hesitated just before he reaching under the snitch carving. His hand touched the hardcover of a book. Quickly snatching it up, he stared at the hard cover.

It didn’t appear to be anything special. Just a black book. He flipped through the pages. No words. Was this the book Snape was talking about? He felt like he could assume that it was. hidden book under his bed, but he knew that assumptions shouldn’t be made unless he had all the facts. He hadn’t seen the cover of the one in Snape’s office, did it even have a title? He reached the last few pages when a few folded pieces of paper fell out. 

Curiously, he chose one at random and opened it. It looked like a note someone passed him in class. ‘ _Help me with this potion. I’m pants at potions. I know that you know how to do this potion. I’ve seen you do it before.’_ There was no signature. Was he supposed to know who this was? He pieced up the next one and opened it. ‘ _Are you going to answer the question? I think a week is long enough. Are you always going to drive me crazy?’_ No name. The last one, ‘ _You better be careful this summer. Keep the coin. Use it if you need me.’_ There was no name but there was a little doodle on it. At the bottom right-hand corner, there was a poorly drawn snitch, what he thought to be a crack was now, rather obviously, a lighting bolt. 

The clock chimed. It was Christmas.

____________________________

Draco had returned to Snape’s office on the 28th, the day before students returned to Hogwarts. He decided not to go sooner because he wanted to keep the notes to himself for a bit longer. Draco still had no idea how to take them. Obviously, Draco and Harry had been at least friends. Why was Harry avoiding him now? 

Draco walked into the office and demanded to see how the book worked. Snape explained that it was actually Draco that had come up with the idea and figured out how to charm the books. Draco apparently charmed two separate books and linked them together to his third ‘master’ book. Draco’s book was the only one that the ink disappeared permanently. Snape’s and Dumbledore’s served as hard copies of his notes.

“You called them ‘Books of Instant Transfer’ and, of course, the Headmaster took to the stupid acronym. Now, I endure his ridiculous puns on being bitten by things.” Snape continued to grumble as he moved over to the shelves.

If he did charm them all, then he just had to see them in action. Excitement made his fingertips tingle as he flipped to the first page as Snape retrieved his own book. Taking a quill from the desk, Draco signed his name and counted. “1. 2. 3.” and the ink disappeared from his book and reappeared in Snape’s book. And if what Snape said was true, his signature would have appeared in Dumbledore’s copy at the same moment it appeared in Snape’s. Fascinating. It must be a Vanishing Charm paired with an Automated Charm. Perhaps a Timer Charm that they use during exams. Draco picked up his book and took some time to study it and ask Snape the occasional question.

An hour later Snape performed Legilimency. He forced his way past the fuzzy images of his fight with Harry at the Quidditch Pitch. The memories that came up were also missing pieces or were jumbled together with images from Draco’s dream. One memory was from summer. Draco was sitting at the dining room table surrounded by other Death Eaters and Voldemort. He was barely able to conceal the horror of having to look at the body laying there. Just as he turned to look away, the scene broke off suddenly and the next memory was forced in its place, causing them to overlap briefly. 

The transition wasn’t the smooth fading in and out of memories like in a pensive. Nor was it the usual constant flow from memory to memory associated with Legilimency. It reminded him of old muggle films, the 35mm films that were black and white that he used to smuggle with him into Hogwarts. The way the memory broke off was similar to damaged frames or when the light slowly burned them. 

Now, he was standing by the dining room window instead, looking at the rain hitting the glass. He’d look a bit older than he was now. He didn’t remember this happening. The memory smoothed into the first day of term. He was on the train, sitting alone in a car when it broke off and was quickly replaced by another memory where he wasn’t even on the train. He was at the Manor. Shift, he was laughing with Harry as they got off the train, overlapping him sitting alone during the Feast, Harry didn’t look over to him. He wasn’t smiling. Shift, he was alone in the Manor sitting at the table, watching Nagini devour a body.

Snape looked mildly concerned. Draco felt worried. Some of those memories, they weren’t his. The expression on Snape’s face clearly stated that he had never encountered something like this. It was becoming more and more likely that this was something that…Voldemort would be able to do. The concentration of disarray appeared to manifest after the fight with Harry Potter. Something must have triggered Voldemort around then and he must have implemented some sort of curse. Possibly a modified Obliviate with a sort of Imperius.

He left Snape’s office yesterday no more prepared for Monday. Where he would have to go back to classes and appear unfazed. Now it was Saturday and student’s came back tomorrow. 

When he got up this morning he all put threw himself onto the floor of the common room right in front of the fireplace. He had been contemplating all day about what to do. Draco rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He would continue to pass the information along, continue to help out Dumbledore and Snape. That was the easiest part to decide. Draco had already made the conscious decision to go against Voldemort whether or not Snape agreed to help him. He was no closer to finding out if Voldemort could see what he was doing, control what he did or read his mind. Draco closed his eyes. One thing he did know, Potter knew more than he was letting on. He must have been watching him for a sign or something that day after Potions. Potter must have been tipped off because of the change in his behavior. But why didn’t he mention anything if they had been friends? Why didn't Weasel or Granger say anything? Because if he and Potter had been friends, those two would have known about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I'm working on the next bulk chapter and it's fighting me.


	5. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is having a rough time and Harry doesn't make anything better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only supposed to be a quick one-shot for my first fanfiction but then I couldn't stop myself from writing more. It has developed quite a bit from the original plot.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

It was March 2nd, and Draco still hadn’t tried to talk to Harry. 

It had just slipped his mind, he would tell himself when he did think about it. He had been busy trying to keep up with his grades while planning his next “attempt” on Dumbledore’s life, on top of trying piece together broken memories and weekly Legilimens with Snape. All without drawing attention to himself. He was starting to get stir crazy from not being able to get out of the castle for two months. The last time he was stuck inside for this long was at the Manor this past summer. At least at the Manor he snuck out to the gardens at night. Blaise and Pansy were complaining regularly about his inability to stop moving. Draco found himself fiddling with everything within arms reach. He just needed to get outside for a few hours. He could spare some on a Sunday, couldn’t he? At lunch, Gregory and Blaise dragged Draco out of the common room after the tenth time he had passed the fireplace, claiming that he was starting to mutter to himself and it was starting to worry them. Draco was picking at the food on his plate when Blaise mentioned that Weasley was in the hospital wing. 

“What?” Draco looked over at Blaise.

“I heard he was poisoned,” Blaise said matter-of-factly. “Appa-a-a-a-rently he had eaten a love potion meant for Potter last night. The idiot took him to Slughorn, of all the people. He should have taken him to Snape.” Blaise took a bite of eggs, “Weasley should have known not to eat chocolate given to Potter. Someone is always trying to kill him.” Pansy, Gregory, and Vincent laughed along with Blaise in agreement. Blaise pointed his fork at Gregory and Vincent, “you two would have eaten it too, so I don’t get why you’re laughing.” Blaise grinned at Pansy and she laughed even harder. “Anyway,” Blaise said, “I heard Slughorn gave him some mead and it was poisoned! The Boy Wonder shoved a bezoar down his throat. It bought them some time to get Weasley to Pomfrey.” He squinted over at the Gryffindor table, “Weasley was lucky, this time.” 

Draco put his head in his hands. He had given Madam Rosmerta a bottle of mead to deliver to Slughorn. Slughorn wasn’t supposed to open it, yet alone serve it. He was supposed to gift it to Dumbledore. Dumbledore who knew it was poisoned. Dumbledore who wouldn’t drink it. Planned failures were becoming actual failures. 

“I heard it was his birthday yesterday,” Pansy said after a pause. They continued to talk idly as they ate, but Draco tuned them out. He was responsible for what happened to Weasley. He scrubbed at his eyes. Fuck. He felt even worse imagining that Harry had almost witnessed his best friend die. Weasley _was_ lucky that Harry was there and somehow had known to give him a bezoar. _I am lucky_. How Harry knew what to do, Draco didn’t know, Harry was rubbish at Potions.

“What’s wrong Draco?” Pansy placed her hand on the back of his neck.

“I just remembered,” Draco shook off her hand and stood up, “I have a ten-foot essay due tomorrow for Advanced Ancient Runes. I haven’t started. I have to go.” He quickly got up and left the Great Hall.

Draco walked all the way down to the dungeons before he changed his mind and headed for the Quidditch Pitch. He needed to clear his head so he could focus on the overall plan. His end game. He couldn’t waste his time worrying about stupid Gryffindors or moronic professors that didn’t adhere to the plan. _I’ll just fly for an hour then go back and discuss with Snape and Dumbledore our next course of action._ _Even though their plan is the one that failed epically._

Draco walked across the courtyard. He was too preoccupied to notice that his feet had carried him to the edge of the Black Lake instead of to the locker rooms until his right foot was in the water. Draco sighed as he backed up and sat down. The sun was bright and the air was unusually hot for March. He stared unseeing out towards the lake. Why had he walked here? Scrubbing his hands on his face, he laid down on his back and stared at the clouds. _Maybe I should just go on with my own plan on the side of theirs? It might be better for everyone. I could owl Mother, no then that would involve her more than she already is. I could ask some of the other Slytherins to… No. I can’t risk their lives to help me. They didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up for this._ Draco inhaled slowly. _But you did. You signed up knowing what you were doing. You just somehow forgot exactly what it is._ He clenched his jaw as he exhaled through his nose. _If only I could remember the original plan._ He draped his arm over his eyes in resignation and scrunched up his nose. The only clue he had was the ‘Always’ on his chest. 

_______________________________________

Draco perked up at the sound of footsteps crunching loudly towards him. Sitting up, his eyes locked onto the approaching figure. Which happened to be a very angry looking Harry was barreling in his direction. _Convenient,_ Draco thought as he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, feigning boredom. “What do you want, Scarhead?” he spat.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Harry didn’t stop walking until he stood toe to toe with Draco. Draco looked passed Harry because his eyes were too intense and he appeared to be struggling to keep his voice under control. 

“What the are you talking about, Potter? I don’t owe you any explanations. Has that scared head of yours finally lost the rest of its marbles?” Draco sneered. 

“You were supposed to stop this!” Harry’s voice sounded strained, almost as if he was in pain, “why are you still going to Snape’s office every week?” His hand rubbed the back of his neck in agitation, “Why are you still playing spy? Why are you still doing the same fucking things!?” Harry’s voice trembled slightly towards the end.

Draco scrunched up his nose in confusion. How did Harry know he was still passing along information? Why was he mad at him for doing the right thing? Who was Harry bloody Potter to come at him like a raging troll, demanding answers to questions he shouldn’t be asking? Potter should not try to tell him to stop as if they were friends because they weren’t. Potter could not be angry at him as if he cared about what happened to Draco because he didn’t. If they had gotten close like Snape was suggesting and the notes he kept in his robe’s pocket implied, then Potter was the one that needed to explain himself. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Potter.” Draco was trying to keep his growing irritation in check. Harry just knew how to get under his skin. He didn’t know why it was almost impossible to keep his usually calm demeanor secured whenever Harry was around. That, plus the stress of this year, and anything could set him off these days.

Harry grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling Draco impossibly closer. His knuckles brushed against Draco’s chest. “You and I both know you are full of shit, Draco.”

Draco didn’t like the feeling of confusion, it meant he wasn’t in control. Harry calling him by his first name scared him and that was confusing. It scared him because it was the first time he heard him say it and for some reason it felt like Harry said it all the time. He felt his chest warm. He pretended Harry didn’t say it. He pretended the feeling in his chest was his imagination.

“Just because you are the “Chosen One” doesn’t mean you are privy to everything that happens. Do you expect Death Eaters to just spill all their plans at your every convenience? You are more daft than I thought. Anything we do has nothing to do with you. I’ve chosen my side, I do as I please.” Draco raised an eyebrow, “and if I’m trying to get myself killed, it is of no concern of-” He was cut off by a swift punch to the jaw that caused him to stagger back a step.

“Take that back, right now.” Harry was shaking, his hands balled at his side. What was going on? Draco tentatively touched his jaw. 

“Take what back, Potter?” Draco spat onto the floor. Blood. He must have bit his tongue when Harry punched him. “The bit where I’m a Death Eater? A tad late to take that one back.”

“You can’t get yourself killed.” Harry’s voice had dropped dangerously low. Draco wondered if he knew he said that out loud. Harry’s eyes held his as he continued to speak, “if we aren’t friends, then you shouldn't still be passing along information.” Harry started to pace as he continued to ramble, “you aren’t even supposed to be here, you are supposed to be in France or even The States, with your mother. How can this be happening? You aren’t supposed to be making the same decisions.” Draco looked on in confusion.

“What do you mean ‘the same decisions’?” Harry blanched, did he really not realize he said all that out loud, then? Draco continued. “What the fuck are you going on about, Potter?” A sinking feeling made its way into his chest. “Why do you care?” Draco stepped back into Harry’s space, “you have some explaining to do, Potter. For instance, why do you stare at me every chance you get and why do you feel so inclined to follow me about the castle. Because you must be tailing me somehow if you know I go to Snape’s office, don’t bother denying it.” Draco taunted, “do you fancy me, Potter?” Draco tilted his head to the side, “or are you feeling guilty?” He couldn’t stop himself, “well, Potter? Have anything to say to that?” the words were just spilling out of his mouth now, “because I would really just love to find out why you are in my busyness all of a sudden. Half the year has gone by and this is the first time you’ve come up to me. Something must have happened for you to decide that today you are going to confront me and pretend you care.” _No, stop, what are you doing, you idiot?_ “Is it because of Weasley? Is that what it took to finally tilt the scale for you to come to me? I’m sure you think I was responsible.” _Which I am…_ “I know you know something.” Why did his voice sound so desperate all of a sudden? 

Harry just stood there, his face had grown pale, but his eyes were still blazing. _Why won't he say anything?_ They stood there at a standstill as the minutes ticked by. _What does he know?_ Draco ran a nervous hand through his hair, smoothing it back in place. _Well, if that is how he is going to play it. I don’t have to stand for this, I’m a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake._ Draco tried his best to glare at Harry, but he was sure it came across as more of a grimace, as he turned on his heel and began to stalk away. A firm grip on his wrist stopped him.

“Draco, wait,” Harry whispered.

“What!?” Draco whirled around and was startled by how close Harry actually was. The look Harry was giving him was unsettling. The feeling in his chest had settled just beneath his 5th rib. It was making his lungs work for each breath as the silence stretched between them, _Harry knows something about my missing memories. The notes had to have been from him. No one else is that presumptuous to think a bloody snitch with a lightning bolt is enough to symbolize them._ Harry continued to just watch him without a word. 

Draco had had enough, “what the fuck do you want, Potter? You come out here and confront me but then have nothing to say.” Draco yanked his wrist out of Harry’s grip, “Do you think me an idiot? I will not stand here and have you harass me.” He took a step back, “I don’t know what you are insinuating by telling me I am making decisions for a second time, but I assure you, whatever I have decided, is none of your busyness.” Draco lifted up his chin just before turning away again. This time, Harry did not stop him.


	6. The Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco confronts the only other person that could have some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only supposed to be a quick one-shot for my first fanfiction but then I couldn't stop myself from writing more. It has developed quite a bit from the original plot.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

Draco was fuming. If Harry was insisting on playing stupid then he would have to play his cards earlier than expected. Draco knew there had to be some correlation between Harry and the mysterious ‘Always’ permanently spelled into his chest. It was just too convenient that whenever he was around, Draco could feel something sparking in his chest. Too coincidental that every time Draco has discovered something, Harry was just happened to be there. All the pieces were in front of him, he just didn’t know how to put it together. _Yet_. Draco couldn’t help but notice that all his memories from before the scuffle with Harry on the Quidditch Pitch were the ones that had been tampered with. He couldn’t help but notice that any memory pertaining to Harry, or could have involved Harry, were blurred, cut-up, ripped apart, or simply weren't there anymore. He would need to test out his theory before he asked any questions. Draco knew that only two other people would know what was going on, besides Snape, Dumbledore and Harry, and one of them he defiantly wasn’t going to even try to talk to.Bounding up the stairs and straight into the Library, Draco made a beeline to the one table closest to the Restricted Section where only one person every occupied it, constantly.

“Hello, Granger,” Draco said as he slid into the seat opposite her. Granger was surrounded by multiple towers of books. She was the ever diligent student. The war could start right here in this very room and she still would keep her nose in those books until someone hexed it right out of her hands. Even then, Draco speculated, she would simply pick up another one from her piles and continue reading.

“Draco,” Draco hated it when he was right. He was half tempted to waltz up to Weasley and ruffle his hair as if they were the best of mates, just to see if he could get away with it. “fancy seeing you here. Aren’t you usually flying around this time of day?” Granger hadn’t even spared him a glance. Why did she know what he usually did on Sundays? And since when did everyone start calling him by his first name? _Probably around the same time your memories have gone missing._

“Granger, I know we haven’t exactly been on the greatest of terms, you being a mudblood and all,” Merlin, that word still didn’t roll off his tongue like it used to but he had to know if she would hex him right out of the Library. If she didn’t then… Granger’s raised eyebrow was the only indication that she was listening.He was more convinced that his theory had been correct. “but I couldn’t help but notice that Potter is off his rocker more than usual and it’s come to my attention that the only person that would have even half the brain to inform me of what is happening, would be you. Weasel wouldn’t be of much help, seeing as how he is not even the same species.” Draco delicately took the book from between her fingers and set it down, taking note that the title was ‘The Dark Arts; The Unforgivable's and Other Spells,’ Granger was staring straight at him. “Why does Potter, and now you, call me by my first name?”

Granger’s face screwed up in thought. It was fascinating to watch as her eyes scanned Draco’s face and then the scanning seemed to take place internally. He could almost pinpoint the exact moment when she pieced everything together and drew her own conclusions. “That idiot!” She stood up as her hands came down hard onto the table. “When I get a hold of him, I’m going to strangle him. No wonder, I mean I just assumed that- but no. Why would that happen? you were both just- and we just thought- And the way you haven’t been talking to us- I should have known that- and- Wait. Did you really just call me a- Wow.” Draco snorted.

“Wow, is one way to put it.” Draco’s brows furrowed “If you would be so kind, Granger.” Did he even know her first name? Granger seemed to realize where she was and quickly grabbed the book Draco took from the table. Draco watched as she stuffed it and a few other books into her book bag. She then grabbed the parchment she had been writing on and took out her wand. Draco reflexively flinched.

“Oh don’t be stupid. Why would I hex you in the middle of the Library? Madam Pince would have a right fit.” She gave him a funny look and then the quick flash of understanding, “You really don’t remember, do you?” Her small smile was a bit on the sad side. Granger waved her wand over the books whispering “Wingardium Leviosa” and the books floated gently up. With a quick flick, the books sailed to their respected places. Tucking her wand behind her back, and a stray hair behind her ear, a thought dawned on Draco. Hermione. That’s what it is. She started to walk away and Draco’s face fell slightly, but he quickly masked it when she turned around, motioning him to follow. Slowly standing, Draco noticed Granger take out a slip of paper as she talked quietly with Madam Pince. Granger motioned to him and to herself as she spoke. Madam Pince gave them both a skeptical look but when she took note of the Prefect badges pinned to their cloaks, she nodded and stood from her desk. Granger mouthed pointedly, ‘Hurry. Up.’ and followed Madam Pince. Draco nodded to himself and followed Granger to the Restricted Section.

__________________________________

Draco huffed in irritation. Madam Pince had left Granger and him in the Restricted Section about an hour ago and Granger had yet to elaborate on her grand epiphany. She was literally looking through every book in every isle. Draco had picked through a few books but after a face appeared from the pages and started screaming at him, he called it quits. That was thirty minutes ago but as the minutes ticked by he itched to do something other than stand there. Making up his mind, he wandered an isle or three down and perused the spines. _Pacifying Deadly Beasts, Popular Poisons, Probabilities of Apocalyptic Situations, Possession. I wonder if we have these books at the Manor?_ Draco used to sit in awe in the Manor’s library and still hasn’t been able to read every single book in there yet. He reached for ‘Quantifying Muggle Physics with Magic’ when Granger called for him as she rounded the corner.

“Draco! I found it. We can’t talk here.” Granger grabbed his hand that was still reaching toward the shelves and tugged, “it isn’t safe.” She tugged him along. Draco scoffed, offended.

“You can’t just yank me places. Who you think you are, tugging at a Malfoy.” Draco pulled his hand from hers and stopped between the isles ‘Apparitions’ and ‘Haunted Hounds.’ Granger scrunched up her nose and raised a brow at him. Draco stunted his eyes at her, that motion seemed familiar.

“Oh shut up. A Malfoy also wouldn’t do the things you've been up to so you better get your head out of your ass and come with me.” Granger then proceeded to snatch another book from just behind Draco’s head and stuffed it into her bag. The cover had a picture of a human skeleton transfiguring into various types of animals. Granger eyed him wearily before continuing on her trek out of the Restricted Section. Draco followed a few steps behind her. She never turned back around to check if he was indeed following her.

 

 


	7. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco follows Hermione and the conversation doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only supposed to be a quick one-shot for my first fanfiction but then I couldn't stop myself from writing more. It has developed quite a bit from the original plot.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction! I welcome critiques.
> 
> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.

Draco silently followed Granger down the halls and out the courtyard doors. He had slowed down enough to where Granger would shake her head in apparent disbelief and stop before she turned a corner. Draco scowled at the ground. He didn’t want people to see him walking with the know-it-all. He was a branded Death Eater, why would he want to knowingly drag her into his plans? But for some reason, though, Draco didn’t think she would have cared. She did still hang around Potter, after all. She must have been crazy. And Draco knew from experience that Granger could take care of herself. He rubbed his jaw as he remembered her brilliant right hook to the face. Eventually, Draco noticed that every now and then she would glance back so he started to stick his tongue out at her or throw her an occasional eye squint with a curled upper lip. Granger would roll her eyes, but there was something vibrant in the way she was trying to stop herself from smirking. This silent banter somehow felt familiar to him.

Granger stopped so abruptly that Draco tripped over her and almost caused both of them to fall to the ground. Draco had to grip her shoulders to keep them from falling. An awkward silence filled the air between him. It didn’t last very long because then Granger apparently couldn’t take it anymore and burst out laughing. It was such a full, loud, and honest laugh that it caused the corner of Draco’s mouth to twitch. He would not laugh. This was not a time to be laughing. He had questions and apparently Granger had the answers. But then Granger’s laugh morphed into a strange kind of laugh. The type of laughter where no sound was coming from her mouth and she was gasping for air and it was so unlike the Granger he is used to that he was caught off guard and found himself trembling to hold in his amusement. The next moment he was laughing. He had to let go of Granger to hold onto his side. He just couldn’t stop laughing. Granger turned around, still laughing, to look at him. He tried to scowl at her, but that just made her laugh harder. He took a few breaths to trying to even himself out but was finding it hard to accomplish. The longer they laughed the more he realized how ridiculous the situation was. A Malfoy with a Muggle-Born standing at the edge of the Black Lake, laughing. Another piece to a puzzle with a picture he didn’t know. When that thought crossed his mind, he couldn’t help laughing at how ironic that was. The place he goes to to think would be the place Hermione Granger took him to talk. 

 It took longer than it should have, but they both managed to calm down enough to sit under the only tree near the lake. Granger was still giggling when she took out a book he hadn’t seen her stuff into her bag. Which didn’t seem to be overflowing, considering he had seen her stuff a number of parchment, quills, ink, and three other books. She took a breath and waved her wand around. _A Muffliato Charm,_ Draco noted.

“Alright. So. Considering that you’ve called me a ‘mudblood’ and you walked about a mile behind me all the way here, it’s safe to say that something major is happening.” Granger said, taking out one of the many quills and parchment from her bag. She placed the parchment on the grass and pointed her wand at it. “I need you to trust me, Draco.” She tapped the parchment and it solidified. She put her wand down and she took up the now rigid paper. She took up her quill, inked it and she scribbled something down.

“Apologies, Granger, if I am not so inclined to trust someone so close to the Golden Child of the Wizarding World.” Draco sat cross-legged with his hands clasped in his lap. She fixed him with an amused look.

“Until this year, you were also just as close to him, so I wouldn’t go throwing stones from glass houses.” She scribbled another note as Draco raised a brow at her.

“I’ve never spoken to Potter in a friendly manner, Granger.” Draco snapped. He didn’t like the way she was scribbling. “If memory serves me correctly, we’ve also had quite a few words in the past.”

“Then, obviously, you don’t have a reliable memory,” She said it so matter-of-factly that Draco found himself speechless. She took his silence as admittance, “What is the last thing you remember? This could be something Voldemort has done. Maybe a fellow Death Eater trying to get up in the ranks. I know your father is in Azkaban, but we can’t rule him out. It could be some botched way of saving you. And we can’t rule out every Slytherin. I know Pansy, Blaze, and Astoria aren’t suspects, and let’s be real, the two goonies that follow you everywhere wouldn’t be this intelligent. Perhaps it’s someone else on our side that doesn’t know. Which is likely, because only Snape and Dumbledore know. I don’t think they really know that we know.” Draco’s face must have shown how confused he was because she added, “Harry, Ron, and I.”

“No.” Draco stood up suddenly. “No. You don’t know what you are talking about. You and Potter are delusional.” His jaw clenched and unclenched a few times. “This is ridiculous. Why did I follow you out here?” Somehow his hand worked itself into his hair, “we aren’t friends. We aren’t even cordial to one another in the halls. This is insane.” Draco said in disbelief. He was just about to leave when Granger took out a familiar looking book. It was the slightly smaller than the others. Black hardcover book with no title. It looked worse for wear than the one in Snape’s office or the one currently hidden under his bed, just behind a carving of a snitch with a stupid lightning bolt. Draco openly stared at it as she opened it. He felt the fight leave him. He could practically hear the doubt leaving his mind. She knew. She knew everything.

___________________________

 

Draco sat back down. He was more subdued as he watched Granger flip through the pages. She was nearing the end when she stopped.

“You wrote to me often. This book works just like the ones Snape and Dumbledore have except we came up with a way for you to just contact me. Don’t look so upset. Ron and Harry don’t know this one exists. It’s more for documentation than anything but,” she turned the book over and slid it into his lap, “a month or so before you cursed the Opal necklace, your entries were more directed at me.” She reached over and pointed to the date, “September 21st, do you remember what happened that day?” He blinked at the entries in his handwriting, _‘September 8th: Ginger Snap, something has happened. 16.’_   ‘ _September 10th: He isn’t listening to me_.’ ’September 12th: He’s up to something.’  ‘ _September 15th: 23._ ’ ‘ _September 19th: I think he going to do something stupid_.’  Then on September 21st, ‘ _September 21st: The snitch…’_ and that’s where it cut off. Just under it was a hastily written ‘ _14._ ’ Draco shook his head minutely.

“That’s the date you and Harry got into a fist fight in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch.” Granger sighed as she took the book back, “that’s the last entry I got from you. ‘The Snitch.’ I wrote back a time, but you never answered so I came here to meet you anyway, to see if you were ok. When you didn’t show up I got worried and tried to find Harry. I didn't find him until after midnight in the common-room. He seemed off and testy. He just said that you two had a disagreement. That you finally agreed to go to France with your mother.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, “when you never did, I cornered him, trying to get to the bottom of it. He wouldn’t answer me. Ron and I just assumed the two of you…” She trailed off and closed her eyes as if she remembered something. She sounded wounded when she spoke again, “I’m so sorry, Draco. I should have known. He was far too interested in my research on memory charms.”

Draco felt his mouth go dry. Harry, the boy who couldn’t vanish ink, the boy who couldn’t make a simple Cure of Boils potion, had tried to Obliviate him. Out of all the chaos in his mind the only question that bubbled to the surface was, “why were you looking into memory charms?”

Granger-he should really start calling her Hermione- gave him a sad smile, “for my parents. I’ve been trying to figure a way to keep them safe from Voldemort since people have started to go missing and unfortunately,” she took a steadying breath, “Obliviate seems to be the only safest way to keep them out of it.” Her shaky hand came to rest on his knee. “Draco,” he looked up from looking at a spot near her right shoe, “tell me what is going on.”

Draco took his own deep breath before letting his face sink into his hands. “I can’t remember anything from before the pitch clearly. If it has anything to do with Potter…It’s damaged. Snape has been trying to get to some of the older memories with Legilimency, but all it does hasn’t given us any answers.” His voice is muffled by his hands and sounds strained. Taking a shaky breath, he lowers his hands and looks directly into Hermione’s eyes, “I don’t remember being close to any Gryffindor.” She squeezed his knee before she moved it away but Draco caught her hand before she retreated too far. “Granger, I-”

“Hermione. Call me Hermione.” She smiled.

“Hermione… I don’t know who I’m supposed to trust anymore.” Draco squeezed her hand meaningfully. She nodded. She must know. Hermione knows everything.


	8. The Pensieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione discuss the possibilities. Hermione thinks she knows where to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Thanks to Celeste for reading through this for me before I posted it.
> 
> Otherwise this is unbeta'd
> 
> All characters belong to J.K Rowling.
> 
> -Edit 11/12/15-  
> I had to change the date of when this takes place to fit my timeline. Apologies for the confusing dates. A fine day, Sunday.

Draco and Hermione discussed a few things that had happened before they agreed to meet the following Sunday in the Slytherin Locker Room. When Draco arrived, Hermione had already transfigured two benches into a table and chairs. She had charts and notes spread across the table, a few books holding the edges down, she had parchment stuck to the lockers closest to her and books were open everywhere. A few of them, Draco noted, were the ones she had nicked from the Restricted Section. He stood there for a moment observing her. She had scrunched up her nose up whenever she appeared stuck. 

“We were close, I take it.” Hermione’s head snapped up at the sound of his voice, “before all,” Draco made a vague gesture toward himself with his hand, “this happened.”

“The Malfoys are never close to ‘mudbloods and blood traitors.’ Therefore, we shan't be close.” She smirked in amusement, “what makes you say that we were close?”

“Why do you do that? Say something that I should be saying?” When she didn’t answer he eyed her curiously as he added, “you do this thing with your nose when you are confused or are working through something that seems impossible.”

“What thing?” She put her elbows on the table and propped her head on her hands.

“You sort of,” Draco waved his hand in front of his face, “scrunch up your face. It’s quite unbecoming, you know.”

“And? That somehow means we were close? Because I ‘sort of scrunch up my face’?” She said it in a mocking manner. The same way she had said the thing about Malfoy’s and Mudbloods.

“You must feel entitled in some way to be able to speak to me so frankly,” Draco said. He couldn’t make heads or tails of  Hermione Granger. 

“I feel entitled because obviously, I know more than you about everything at this point.” She scrunched up her nose at him purposefully, “you don’t even know what you were doing in September. That’s 4 months of complete uncertainty and, let’s face it, ignorance of the last 5 years of your life.” She threw him a grin that made his skin crawl. He couldn’t forget that this is the girl that picked up new spells within minutes of seeing it done in class.

“You don’t know what I do and do not know exactly. I know yesterday I mentioned things, but you don’t know the facts of the last 4 months. You may know what I was up to and who I was up till December but do not presume to know who I am now.” Draco fixed her with a glare, “and if we were friends, then why do you insist on making this so difficult? It’s like…It’s like pulling teeth!” Hermione Granger had the audacity to laugh that moronic-open-mouthed laugh.

She was taking the piss.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Draco accused. “You are just taking the piss!” Hermione smiled at him innocently. “You are. I have been told I do that face bit.” Draco plopped down on the chair across from her, rubbing his temples. She was going to kill him. He tugged at the corner of one of the papers that are covered in notes, “just tell me you have a theory already. You do, don’t you?”

“I do, actually.” Hermione got up to stand next to him and rearranged a few pages so they faced Draco better. “With all the things we talked about yesterday, the reoccurring dream, the memories you’ve seen in your sessions with Snape,” she pointed at a spell in one of the open books, “I think Harry botched this spell.” She pulled over a scribbled on parchment, “Since the spell is a really complicated Obliviate, the incantation, ‘Ut plene haec obliviscaris,’  has to be done perfectly. The castor selects an object, feeling, or person to forget, and all the memories connected to it is Obviliated. Since it’s Harry, I think we can safely assume that it wasn’t perfect and that is why you still have bits left over.” She stepped back around the table and sat down in her chair. “Unless,” she picked up one of the books from the floor and quickly flipped through the pages, “unless something else is going on. Is there anything else that’s odd?” Draco thinks Hermione has some scary similarities with Snape. She looks at him expectantly. He stares back and raises a delicate brow. Hermione throws the book at him and he ducks his head, “come on Draco, I have known you long enough and well enough to know that you wouldn’t just _let_ Harry Obliviate you.”

“Granger,” she shot Draco a look, “Hermione. As much as I would like to believe that Harry Potter would do as much research as either of us when it comes to hiding something, I highly doubt that he actually would. Ever. Look up a specific spell like that.”

“Draco. Malfoy.” Hermione flipped the page of the book still infant of Draco, “the beauty of this theory is that he didn’t. I did all the research.” She sighed and mumbled something that sounded like “I already told you he was snooping on my Obliviate research.”

“Ok, let’s say that he did, in fact, use this particular Obliviate variation,” Draco rubbed his face with both hands, “and he did muck it up. How do we reverse it? I need to know what is happening. Especially because Voldemort is pressing for an into Hogwarts. My stalling is becoming intolerable Death Eater neglect.”

“I need you to think, Draco.” Hermione began to tap her quill on a book, “is there something you haven’t told me yet?” She closed her eyes in concentration, “the memories that you have, the ones that are spliced into the recent ones. The ones that appear to not be your memories. I have another theory but, I need to know if there is something else.” When she opened her eyes again, her eyes searching his for a sign, “I know there is little to no chance that Harry could have gotten the drop on you without you having a plan for it.”

Draco sighed he stood up. He didn’t like it but, like with Snape, what did he have to loose at this point? He took off his vest. Hermione’s eyes looked alarmed as he began to unbutton his shirt.

“Draco, what on earth are you-” She trailed off as Draco unbuttoned his shirt all the way and took it off. Her eyes fixed on the angry scarring. “Draco…” She got up to get a better look.

“I noticed it back in December, but I can’t be sure when it actually got there.” Hermione looked at the ‘Always’ like she was reading the most fascinating book. “It has my magic signature. Snape confirms it and that it doesn’t have anything to do with what is happening with my memory.” She glanced up at him in question and he nodded. She tentatively touched his chest. It sparked slightly as her magic brushed it.

“Does it hurt at all? Has it been acting strangely? Other than it mysteriously appearing and bearing your signature…And your handwriting. In reverse. For you to be able to read it, I presume.”

“Hermione, I’ve already been asking these questions since I first noticed it.” Draco aggravatingly yanked on his shirt and quickly buttoned up his shirt. He was growing more and more frustrated as he jerked away from her and glared down at the table. “I don’t understand why we can’t figure this out. This is bloody _Potter_ we are talking about! He wouldn’t be able to do this. He isn’t that smart or organize enough to come up with a plan like this. Obliviate me, trick you and Weasley into thinking we just, what was it you said, that we just had a disagreement that was terrible enough that I no longer speak to anyone of you. And to keep Dumbledore and Snape in the dark long enough for neither one of them to notice that their one very active spy was MIA for at least a month.” Draco was rambling, he hated when his mouth ran with his mind instead of a step behind. “Now that I think about it, though, I do believe that I’ve been feeling something resonate in my chest. I mean, generally when it comes to Potter I already feel,” _attraction_ , “animosity. But recently it’s been a warm sinking feeling. It feels familiar and that if I can just figure out why that is. I know this has something to do with him and-what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I forget you don’t remember.” Hermione sighed, “it isn’t my place.” She wandered over to a cauldron she had set up in the back of the room. He didn’t notice that before. “I think, and don’t shoot me down until you’ve heard me out.” She shot him a glare, “I believe that the mark was your plan.” She picked up the cauldron and Draco realized it wasn’t a cauldron at all but a  Pensieve. “Your safety net, just in case Harry did manage to succeed in Obliviating you.” She pushed all the papers onto the floor before placing the Pensieve on the table. “I think that if we looked at my memory from the day of the fight, then we can pinpoint when he did it.” She touched his shoulder, “Harry is more clever than you give him credit for. It is possible he was trying to Obliviate you so you would forget that you took the Dark Mark to be a spy and flee to France.” Draco nodded. He understood what she was saying but couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Harry and him having the type of friendship where he cared if Draco got hurt. He touched his chest and pondered on the possibility. His eyes wandered and landed on the Pensieve. What if…

“What if the reason I still have some memories is because I trapped the ones I could into it?” Draco tapped his fingers across the ‘Always.’ “What if I did figure out his plan and that he was going to Obliviate me and I shoved all the memories I could into my chest. Important ones. Ones that I thought would make a difference? It would explain the dreams.” Draco swallowed. He never knew himself to be sentimental but if he and Harry were close… Then maybe he had- “What if I made it so that it would react to Harry’s magic? Since he was the one to Obliviate me.” Something he said must have triggered Hermione to remember something because she started to nod encouragingly.

“You and Harry, you had this thing. You used to tell him “I will always remember” when you thought no one could hear you. You can’t whisper if your life depended on it, by the way. It started this year. I asked Harry and he said you said it to reassure yourself that you wouldn’t forget why you were doing this.” She smiled a bit, “he said that he would tell you ‘Always’ in return.” Draco could feel his face heat up. What was he to Harry before all this had started? He didn’t want to think…But now that she was saying all this his mind thought of impossibilities. Hermione must have seen his thoughts on his face because she quickly added, “do not ask me Draco. I will not tell you anything.” He nodded.

“After we see this memory… I think I know what is under my skin.” Draco waited for her to put her memory in the Pensieve. “By the way,” Draco gave her a sidelong look, “where did you manage to get a Pensieve?”

“You guys aren't the only ones that know how to expropriate. Plus, I am simply... re-appropriating it.” She scoffed at his look, “it’s Professor Trelawney’s. It’s not like she is going to use it anytime soon for stargazing.”

“When did this pillaging happen?” Draco said as he teasingly elbowed her side.

“Last night.” Hermione grinned at him.

Hermione grabbed his hand and they gave each other one quick nod before dipping their faces into the water.

_____________________________________________

When Draco opened his eyes, the sun was shining and he was standing in the middle of a courtyard. Glancing around, he realized this was the courtyard in the epicenter of the castle. He had to hand it to Hermione, she paid attention to details. Hardly any part of the memory was blurry. Although, there were some things that were fuzzy, such as what kind of flowers were blooming on the bushes and the faces of people walking down the halls to classes through the windows. Overall, the crisp edges made Draco wonder what else she’s noticed throughout the years. It could very well be that she was on to him since the end of year one. He shook his head. No, no one could have known about his inner most thoughts about certain members of the human race. He hadn’t told anyone about it but, judging by the details he could see from the couple about to break up across the way, maybe Hermione probably didn’t need anyone to tell her anything. Except, as Draco let his eyes wander up to the blurry sky, perhaps she wouldn’t notice-

A _BANG!_ cut across the yard followed by his own voice yelling brought him back to what he was supposed to be looking at. Draco started to walk toward them when a firm hand gripped his wrist. He turned to find Hermione looking at him.

“You can’t go over there. I don’t follow.” She uses her chin to gesture over her shoulder. Memory Hermione is sitting next to a memory Weasley.

“What do you think that’s about?” Memory Hermione asks. She looks worried when she keeps glancing at the scene unfolding. Memory Harry and memory Draco are standing away from each other, but their voices are no longer raised. They both look angry.

“Probably another domestic.” Memory Weasley turned to look at memory Harry and memory Draco  before looking back at memory Hermione. “Harry has been in quite the mood the past few days. I know they wanted to keep whatever they are doing a secret but running about yelling at each other is one way to let the snake out of the bag.” Draco made a face. What had been going on between Harry and him? 

“Hush Ron, I’m trying to hear them.” Memory Hermione was staring at her lap in concentration. Then Draco could hear them.

“Why must you be so stupid, Potter?” Memory Draco sounded irritated, “you can’t seriously expect anything different. This assignment will not change just because you want to try it over.”

“You just give up too easily, Malfoy.” Memory Harry spat, his face was blurred, but his voice carried his exasperation clearly. “This is why, Malfoy. This is why we shouldn’t have ever been paired up. You don’t know how to do what is right.”

“If it is stupid, you are damn right I will not. I thought this was obvious.” Memory Draco made a motion but since Hermione had been looking at her lap, it was blurred. “If you can’t finish this assignment with me, then I will complete it on my own.” The scene blurred away like ink in water.

“I thought it would help you believe what happens in this next one. It’s the same day.” Hermione explained. Draco didn’t quite understand what she meant. She must have noticed because as the scene went from smokey colors to solid forms of the Quidditch viewing stands she said, “I meant it when I said that you and Harry were close. No one else knew about the developments between you and Harry. You two were very cautious for obvious reasons.” She offered him a reassuring smile, “I was even under the impression that you had enjoyed Umbridge’s tirade. That is until Harry confessed he had asked you for help in Potions at the beginning of 4th year and you had actually been civil by the time Harry was assigned the first task of the Twi-Wizard Tournament. And it was something resembling friendship by the time…” she paused to collect her thoughts, skipping over the obvious and continued, “you both kept on with the ‘mortal enemies’ bit. It was all terribly convincing. The buttons you made should have been a dead giveaway, actually. What kind of hatred causes someone to singlehandedly charm hundreds of buttons to give out. I must have been blinded by that teeth growing hex sent my way.” She smiled softly at him. She didn’t hold anything he had done against him. _Foolish._

They followed memory Hermione as she and memory Weasley walked to the Pitch. “I don’t know why we are following them. They obviously have some things to sort out. And I for one, do not need to witness them ‘sort it out.’” The way memory Weasley said ‘sort it out’ caused Draco to blush. Why was he embarrassed?

“Because, _Ronald_ ,” memory Hermione stressed, “what if they get into it again? Remember the last time they fought? We ended up in detention because they blew up the Gryffindor locker rooms!” she huffed and muttered, “guilty by association.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “and Draco should be concerned just like I am! Harry carries around that stupid Potions book everywhere. Who know’s what is in that book! The Half-Blood Prince. Ha! It could have been planted! There is something evil about that book.”

“You are just cross because now Harry is the top of the class and you aren’t,” memory Weasley laughed. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are jealous. You are acting like Draco.” Memory Hermione hit him with the book she was carrying and memory Weasley rubbed his arm, grinning.

Draco was just about to ask what the point of all this was until they heard the harsh voices coming from the deserted Pitch.

“You will do no such thing, Potter.” Memory Draco was pacing in front of memory Harry. They were in between the two goals. “I can’t believe you think I can just extract myself from this. Even if I wanted to, it is too _late._ What don’t you understand? I have been in this since he came back. Since the rumor came about of his return. _Before_ the end of 4th year even happened. I chose. I _chose,_ Potter.” Memory Weasley and Hermione stopped and hid behind the stands. Draco felt as if he should be hiding but then remembered he and Hermione weren’t there. They couldn’t be seen by anyone. Hermione stayed with her memory version as Draco stepped a few yards closer to the scene.

“Stop it.” Memory Harry grabbed hold of memory Draco’s shoulders to stop his pacing, “you are driving me crazy.” Memory Harry sighed, “I thought I’d ask. Especially since…” his voice trailed off.

“Harry…” Memory Draco was looking at memory Harry as if he was about to break. “I know what you wanted but… But your plan. _That_ plan, it isn’t going to work. No matter what you do, I will keep choosing to do the same thing. You know, I know that deep down you know, that I must continue like it was. You can’t change it.” Memory Draco cupped memory Harry’s cheek as he tried to smile but failed, “it’s all going to end the same way. You may be a half-wit, but even you are smart enough to know that we can’t change what’s already happened. If we even try, we could destroy everything and make the outcome alarmingly worse.” Memory Harry’s hands went to memory Draco’s waist and pulled him closer.

“It can’t be worse than…No, I won't let you.” Memory Harry sounded so small. “I won’t let that happen. Not again.”

“One person isn’t worth hundreds, Harry. Don’t be foolish.” Memory Draco wrapped his arms around memory Harry’s neck, pulling him into an embrace. Memory Draco pressed his lips to memory Harry’s temple and seemed to be mumbling something that caused memory Harry to visibly tremble. It was almost as if memory Harry was crying. The scene was quite and the distant sound of approaching students caused both of them to close their eyes. “I think it’s time for a dual, Potter.” Memory Draco let his fingers brush memory Harry’s jaw before fixing his tie. Memory Harry nodded wearily.

“Scared, Malfoy?” Memory Harry smirked a bit.

“You wish.” Memory Draco smoothed his hair that memory Harry somehow ruffled. “I think the one about my father is good.” Memory Harry nodded once as he tilted his head to the side before memory Draco spoke loudly, “even you are smart enough to run and hide, Potter. Dumbledore won't always be around to protect you from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” The Hufflepuff quidditch team was coming from the far side of the pitch. “Mother was right, your false sense of security is alarming Potter. You would think you would have grown some brains in that scared up head of yours.” They were standing a few steps apart now, their faces set in displeasure.

“Seems to me that I am much more secure than you, Malfoy. Seem’s to me that Father won't be hearing about anything anymore.” The Hufflepuff team was gathered around them in a semi-circle, watching in awe as the two of them continued to seethe. “Seeing as how he’s in Azkaban.”

“At least he’s still alive, Potter, unlike your imbecile parents.” Memory Harry swung and his fist collided with memory Draco’s jaw. Stunned, memory Draco blinked a few times before lunged at memory Harry with a yell filled with rage. That’s when memory Hermione and Weasley came out and made a big show in separating them. Memory Draco shot everyone a glare before stalking off in the direction of the Slytherin locker rooms. As memory Draco walked past Draco, the scene behind him warps into wisps of smeared smoke.

Hermione tentatively touched Draco’s shoulder from behind him. “I know it’s overwhelming, but this is where this memory ends. About an hour later is when you wrote to me last. In the book.” They are both pulled from the memory and stand there in silence.

Eventually, Draco speaks. “So… Potter and I… we were…”

“In some kind of relationship. I have no idea what you two were talking about when Ron and I arrived. You can see how Ron and I just assumed the two of you had simply broken up when Harry stopped sneaking out to see you. We weren't sure how you would act with us when we ran into in the dungeons on the way to Potions back in December. I do have some thoughts as to what could have happened, but perhaps we should take a break… You look pale.” Hermione looked on in concern as Draco just stood there. The back of her hand was warm when it brushed the side of his cheek. He blinked out of his thoughts.

“I… No, just. I just need a minute. Potter, he came up to me… What he said. It is similar to what he said before. Not with all the… the extra bits… but…” his voice sounded odd to his own ears. Did he always sound so uncertain? “We need to get to the bottom of this. The sooner, the better.” Hermione nodded as Draco sat down on the floor, his back against a locker. “Just give me a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the kudos and subscriptions. I'll be honest, I was tentative when I first decided to start writing this fanfiction. I am so glad that it appears to have been well received.


	9. The Extraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was harder than they both thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the pause in updates! I've been ill, but I have had too many ideas to keep from writing and posting this chapter and the next. I hope you like it. Or not?

The minute turned into an hour and soon the sun was gone and dinner was probably being served, but all of that was not as important as the thoughts barreling through Draco’s mind.

“I need you to cut open my chest.”

Hermione’s head shot up from the notes she was scribbling. “What?”

“Are you deaf now? My chest.” Draco looked at her earnestly, “I need you to cut it open. You brought a vile, didn’t you? Your bag must have one at least, it holds everything else.”

“Probably, but why? I don’t…” Her voice trailed off as she came to the same conclusion as Draco had, “you think there are memories inside the text. That would be brilliantly convenient.” Hermione rummaged around in her bag and extracted not one vile, but five. “Do you have any idea what spell you used? I don’t think I’ve ever read about one that allows you to implant memories into your skin without them being absorbed into the host.”

“The mere fact that you’ve read about anything related to that is terrifying, you do know that, don’t you?” Draco was unbuttoning his shirt.

“It must be why Voldemort wants to wipe out all the muggles. To avoid witches and wizards like me.” Hermione deadpanned as she reached into her bag. Her entire arm disappeared into the bag. “Aha.” She took out a small blade used for cutting potions. “This is going to have to do. I didn’t come prepared for mutilation.”

“Some reason, Granger, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you had.” Draco’s laughed was strained as he tried to lighten the mood. Hermione shook her head as she pulled the two chairs together and sat down in one, waiting. Draco got up and folded his shirt, placing it on the table as he sat down in the other chair. Setting his shoulders, Draco said seriously, “cut deep. You need to make sure that you push down until you see the memories.” He laughed nervously as he joked, “you know, people would kill to cause harm to a Malfoy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she leaned closer to him. Her hands were trembling as she touched his chest and used her fingers to pull the skin taunt. “Ready?” Draco nodded. Her right hand was surprisingly steady as she pressed the knife into his skin. Draco looked up at the ceiling as the knife bit into his skin. He could feel his blood drip down his chest. Before Hermione could even think about lifting the blade, his hand shot out to grab her wrist and squeezed. He pulled the knife deeper into him.

“Don’t stop.” Draco gridded out. Hermione let out a shaky breath as she fixed her eyes on his chest and pushed harder. Draco had to bite his bottom lip to keep from yelling as he let go of her wrist. The pain was terrible as the blade dug and dug. It wasn’t as bad as accepting the Dark Mark, but it was agonizing. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. Maybe she would have to pierce his heart to get the memories. If there were memories. He didn’t have proof that they were actually even in there, but it was their best bet. He had to sound convincing for Hermione to do this. What if she ended up killing him and there weren’t any memories to recover? This was stupid. Why did he even suggest- Hermione gasps softly, the knife felt like it was a hair away from scraping his rib cage.

“Don’t move, Draco. I just, I need to…” Her voice sounded watery as she grabbed a vile and pressed the lip just under the cut. “It’s not coming out Draco, I have to-I’m going to have to cut more of the ‘A,’” her voice broke slightly in the middle.

“It’s ok, Hermione.” Draco brought his left hand to rest on her knee reassuringly. “I’m ok.”

She continued to cut open the ‘A’ slowly and steadily. She carefully collected the memory. “Do-do you think there is more than one? Sh-Should I cut all the-the letters?” Her voice trembled in a way that she didn’t let her hands tremble. Her lips were pressed in a grim line.

“That would be wise.” Draco was panting. He couldn’t help it, it was difficult to keep from yelling and he refused to do so. “To be sure.”

It took another two hours to remove 5 other memories. One from each letter.

_______________________________

Scourgify never did do the best job on blood. Hermione’s fingers were stained red, matching the smears down Draco’s chest. They sat in silence. Both needed time to collect their thoughts and nerves. Between the two of them, they had gotten the bleeding to stop and the deep incisions were mostly closed. Hermione had put something called “super-glue” onto the more severe cuts, sticking the skin together. He didn’t mind that it would likely scar. It wasn’t as important as the fact that he right about memories being inside his skin. His mind was quickly working on his next theory, but he was terrified of being right. Again.

“Do you want to join me?” Draco was hoping she would. That way, there would be another witness to tell him he isn’t crazy. If what he was thinking was indeed what had happened then… “You don’t have to but… I would like the company.”

“Yes.” Hermione let her gaze fall down as she gathered his hands in both of hers, “we started this escapade together, why would I leave you to face these alone.” Her nose was still running and her eyes were puffy. She was an awfully ugly crier. She cautiously peered up at him as she opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it.

“We both know you are going to say it eventually and I for one, do not want to bare witness to you spontaneously combusting like a phoenix when you try to keep it to yourself.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in what he hoped resembled a smile. She glowered at him, quickly followed by a groan in defeat.

“It’s just. Harry’s wording, in the memory. It’s a bit odd, wasn’t it? Quite…troubling.” Her hands were squeezing Draco’s tightly as she continued, “I mean, if what I’m thinking, and you probably are thinking the same thing, if we’re right…” Draco nodded in agreement, gripping her hands back just as tightly.

“It means that no matter what happens in these memories, we have to make sure they happen.” He took a deep breath, “any means necessary. Hermione, you have to be willing to possibly use Unforgivables. You shouldn’t-“

“Draco, do not tell me what I should or should not do. I know the rules. I had to learn them back in third year, remember?” She made a face, “or no, you wouldn’t.” She bit her bottom lip, “should we tell other people? We may need help. When Harry has his mind set on something-”

“I know, I know. He will stop at nothing to achieve his goal. I’ve seen him in action, remember? Memory or not, I’ve watched him for longer than he was even aware of.” Embarrassed, Draco averted his eyes. “We should watch the memories before we decide if it is necessary to involve anyone else. I know you are thinking Weasley but-“

“Yes, I agree. He would accidentally tell Harry.” Hermione shook her head as she glanced at the Pensieve then out the entrance of the locker room. “We should do this now. If we stay out too late after curfew then Harry will realize I’ve borrowed some things.” She grinned at Draco trying to ease the growing tension.

“And what did you appropriate of Potter’s?” Draco asked curiously. Hermione was showing how much of a Slytherin she was tonight. She gave his hands one last squeeze before tenderly letting go.

“I’ll show you after.” Hermione pulled the Pensieve closer to the edge of the table, just between them and poured all of Draco’s memories into it. “If we do them all at once, I think we can get through them faster but we can always stop if we need to.” She took her eyes off the silvery water to raise an eyebrow at him, “aren’t you cold?”

“Oh, shut up.” Draco pulled his shirt back on and set his shoulders, “let’s get this over with.” Hermione reached for his hand and he let her hold it as the both leaned into the Pensieve.


	10. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diving into the Pensieve holds Draco's memories that have yet to be tampered with but are they ready to see the truth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one long chapter. Hold on to your technology.

This time, it felt like falling into cold water without getting wet. Draco shuddered and had to tighten his grip on Hermione’s hand to remind himself that she was there. They were standing by the door of the Potion’s classroom. Draco spotted himself in the front of the class.  

“Pay attention.” Snape’s voice snapped from behind causing both of them to jump, “this potion isn’t complicated if you would only keep yourself from sleeping, Weasley.” Memory Snape walked to the front of the classroom as he continued to speak. “Now, I have taken the liberty to pair you each up with someone from the opposite house.” He flicked his wand towards the chalkboard where a list of names appeared, “on the board you will find your partner. You will have two hours to brew. It starts now.” 

Draco looked at the list of names and was not surprised to find his name next to Harry Potter. Hermione tugged him over to where memory Harry was grimacing. 

“Maybe he won't be so bad?” Memory Harry said to memory Weasley, who turned around to look back at memory Draco. Who had objected rather loudly.  

“I wouldn’t count on it, mate.” Memory Weasley patted memory Harry on the back sympathetically. Hermione snorted next to Draco and he elbowed her in the side. 

“That’s rather unbecoming, Granger” Draco criticized. She just shrugged as she walked over to where memory Draco looked to be hunkering down. 

 “Looks like you are going to have to move over there, mate. He looks to be one step away from using a Sticking charm on the seat.” Memory Weasley laughed. Draco looked over at his past self. Did this mean that he could hear their conversation from over there? 

 “Yeah, yeah. I’m going. You best be going over there to Parkinson. She looks like she is going to boil you alive if you don’t move soon.” Memory Harry kicked memory Weasley in the shin before picked up his things and walking over to memory Draco. Draco followed close behind and Hermione was smirking at him. 

 “What,” Draco said flatly. 

“You are such an eavesdropper.” Hermione teased causing Draco to flush. 

“It’s not my fault that people feel the need to scream at each other when only a foot apart.” 

“Draco, Harry and Ron were across the room from you.” She looked at him incredulously. 

“Yeah, well.” Draco pressed his lips in a thin line. She caught him. Harry and Weasley hadn’t even been loud compared to the muffled chatter around them. He waited for her to comment on it and was surprised to find her just smiling and focusing back on memory Harry and memory Draco. 

“Just don’t get in my way.” Memory Draco snapped as he waved his wand to turn on the burner. 

“You can’t just order me around, Malfoy. This is a partnered assignment.” Memory Harry warned.

 “And you have managed to miss brew all your previous ‘partnered assignments.’ I will not tarnish my grade average just because you want to play ‘Potions Expert’” Memory Draco said as he crushed snake fangs in his mortar. Memory Harry opened his mouth to say something but appeared to think better of it and instead looked at his own potions book. Memory Harry then placed four pinches of Anise and Coriander into his own mortar and began to crush them into a fine powder. Memory Draco glanced over and shook his head.

 “What are you doing?” Memory Draco hissed. Memory Harry shrugged. 

“What does it look like, Malfoy.” Memory Harry looked at memory Draco with a very serious expression and deadpanned, “I’m sewing Professor Snape a dress.” Memory Draco was taken completely by surprise which the corner of his mouth twitched. 

Their surroundings warped into the Great Hall. They were standing behind memory Draco eating his breakfast alone. He was one of the few scattered students up early enough for breakfast on a Saturday. The doors opened and a disheveled looking memory Harry and memory Weasley slowly make their way to the vacant seats next to memory Hermione. 

“Draco, you're staring.” came Hermione’s voice from behind him.

 “No, I’m not.” he responded defensively. 

“Not you, idiot. Memory you.” Hermione squared next to memory Draco and looked in the direction he was staring in. “You are staring at us. Them.” Him, is what she means. Draco thinks. Memory Draco looks back at his plate once memory Harry drinks from his cup. 

The next memory filters through like smoke. They were standing in the middle of the Library and Draco is sitting at the farthest table. The table that Hermione occupied yesterday, right next to the Restricted Section. He looked bored staring down at an Advanced Potions book. 

“Draco, look.” Hermione elbows Draco in the ribs. Memory Harry must have just walked in and spotted memory Draco because now he was beelining right to him. Memory Harry stopped right next to memory Draco and waited. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your irritation, Potter?” memory Draco didn’t look up from his book. 

“Did you see them?” Memory Harry asked. He was clearly irritated about something. 

“Don’t you have something better to do? I hear that there is a Goblet that everyone wants to die for.” Memory Draco turned a page in his book, “or go chase the new skirts around here. The girls from Beauxbatons would hex you from here back to France, but Durmstrang girls. They may take pity upon you and kill you quickly.” 

“You haven’t answered my question, Malfoy.” 

“Don’t you have a Granger to help you? Or Weasel Bee? Although, he is a poor excuse for a pure-blood. I wouldn’t put it past him to be a poor excuse as a tutor.” Memory Draco turned another page. It was obvious he wasn’t reading anymore. Memory Harry sat down in the chair next to memory Draco and ripped the book from his hands, clearly aggravated. Maybe it wasn’t obvious. Memory Draco glared at memory Harry. “Do you just live to annoy me? Or do you just go out of your way to cause me anguish?” 

“You are such a Drama Queen.” 

“Did you just-No one has ever called me a Drama Queen.”

 “Maybe not to your face.” 

“And you think I’ll help you now? You come here, rudely grab my literature from my grasp, then insult me. I don’t know what kind of filthy muggles taught you manners, but obviously they didn’t stick.” Memory Draco got up. “Keep the book. It might teach you something.” 

“I don’t see the point in this memory,” Hermione stated. 

“It can’t be over yet.” Draco kept his eyes on memory Harry slowly started to wash away into another memory. They were now in spare potions lab. “It must be spliced together with another from the same day.”

 Memory Draco sat at one of the stations scribbling furiously into his notebook. Laid out beside him were all the ingredients to brew Forgetfulness Potion. The Pewter cauldron sat on an unlit burner.

 “What am I waiting for?” Draco asked. 

“What makes you think you are waiting for anything?” Hermione said as she wandered around the room. 

“The burner is unlit, none of the ingredients are prepped. Don’t tell me…” Draco groaned. Just then the classroom door opened and memory Harry rushed through.

 “You little flirt!” Hermione gasped. Color rose high on Draco’s cheeks. 

“Maybe next time you shouldn’t reply to my notes inside the book, on the page of the potion I need help with.” Memory Harry said angrily, “I almost didn’t see it at all!” 

“Then you would have been shit out of luck.” Memory Draco scowled, “and you couldn’t possibly be any higher on my list of people I absolutely can not stand.”

 “Then why even agree to help me?”

 “I have these bouts of insanity and you seem to have caught me in one of them. Now,” memory Draco turned in his seat, “I hope you brought my book. You need to turn on the burner and add Lethe River Water to the cauldron.”

 “Of course I brought it, you wrote in it ‘If you don’t bring my book, I swear Potter, I will skin you alive and feed you to the Giant Squid in the Black Lake.’” Memory Harry walked around the bench to stand next to memory Draco. “Don’t I need to put the River Water in first.” 

“I am so pleased that you know how to read. You have exceeded my expectations.” Memory Draco smirked when memory Harry burned his fingers on the cauldron when it finally heated up. Draco watched in fascination as the smirk slightly softened when he continued to watch memory Harry nervously cut Valerian Springs into small one inch pieces. 

“I don’t understand how I missed that,” Hermione stood beside Draco, their shoulders bumping slightly as she leaned against him, “I never miss anything.” She sighed softly as she crossed her arms. Draco was too focused on memory Harry bumbling about trying his best not to screw up the potion as memory Draco barked out the next step. 

The memory continued on like that until the potion had to stew for 45 minutes. That is when memory Draco got up. 

“You should just prepare everything before the time is up. It’s easier to finish since the potion finishes brewing in 47 minutes total. That only gives you-“

 “Two minutes to do 5 steps. Yes. I know. I can read, remember,” memory Harry offered memory Draco a smile. Memory Draco snorted and shook his head as he picked up his Charms book.

 “Since you know everything already, I’ll just leave you to it, Oh Wise One.” 

Memory Harry put some Mistletoe Berries not his mortar and crushed them using the pestle. Somehow, the berries kept popping out and all over the floor. 

“Merlin’s beard, did you never teach him how to properly crush anything?” Draco chuckled as memory Harry cursed under his breath, picking another berry up from the floor. 

“He never asked.” Hermione smiled just as memory Draco slammed his book closed. 

“What in the name of Salazar’s left tit, are you doing?” Memory Draco grabbed the pestle out of memory Harry’s hands. “Didn’t Granger ever teach you to push and twist down while crushing any type of berry? You are such a pig! I can only imagine what your rooms must look like,” memory Draco shuddered, “look.” He huddled close to memory Harry and brought the mortar closer to him. “You need to leave the mortar on the table for purchase. Then you rest your wrist on the edge and twist your wrist as you go down.” Memory Draco crushed the berries that were left in the mortar. What memory Draco didn’t realize was that memory Harry wasn’t watching his hands doing the demonstration, but his face. “Now,” memory Draco slide the mortar over before turning to get more Mistletoe Berries, “you do the rest. You only need about 4 to get the amount of paste needed.” Memory Harry nodded quickly and picked up the pestle. Draco noticed that he was blushing. The memory faded out.

 “Well, that was enlightening,” Hermione said loudly. Draco had forgotten she was there momentarily. “You obviously thought you wouldn’t believe anyone telling you that you and Harry were together.” 

“Can you blame me? I hardly believe it now. I’m sure I found it difficult to come to terms with it being a reality. Son of a Death Eater and the Chosen one? Impossible.” Draco sat down in what looked like a sofa. A red sofa. He looked around and noticed himself sitting next to Harry, along with Weasley and Hermione. They were all sitting next to a fireplace, papers strewn across the floor. “Are we in the Gryffindor Common Room?” 

“Yes.” Hermione sat down next to him, “I remember this. This was about a week before the Yule Ball. You and Harry started to study up here sometimes. I remember this because the next day, Harry was rather upset and asked the Patil twins to the Ball.” 

They watched as the small group giggled and talked, laughed and read. Draco studied how he looked when he was watching Harry. Had he always been so transparent? Not enough for others to notice but could Harry? He was smiling more than he usually did. His hand would brush Harry’s when he reached across for ink and Harry looked non-the-wiser.

 “Harry just slipped something into your potions book,” Hermione noted. The memory continued for a few more minutes before memory Draco was bidding everyone goodnight. They followed closely behind all the way down to the Slytherin chambers. Memory Draco stood next to the fireplace and opened his potions book, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. Hermione and Draco huddled behind him to see what it said. “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” Memory Draco bit his bottom lip and balled up the note before throwing it into the fire. He quickly fled to the dorm rooms. The memory started to shift. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Really, Hermione? I thought you were smarter than that.” Draco spat, “I couldn’t have gone with him even if I had wanted to.” Hermione placed her hand on the small of his back as the scene changed and changed. 

They stood off to the side as the memories rushed past them. Somehow, past Draco figured out how to speed up the memories as well as connect them so they flowed seamlessly from one to the next. 

Memory Harry and memory Draco were bickering back and forth about what was more important in magic, theory or practice. Their knuckles brushed as they walked past Hermione and Draco. Next they were in the stands watching memory Harry and memory Draco flying. Speeding and twisting after a practice snitch. Memory Draco caught the snitch and they stopped in front of the stand that Hermione and Draco stood in. “You fly like you were born to, when no one else is around,” memory Harry says which causes a deep blush to spread across memory Draco’s cheeks and neck. Then there’s memory Draco cornering memory Harry. 

 “Let me see it.” memory Draco demands. 

 “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Malfoy” Memory Harry pushes past memory Draco, but he grabs his arm. 

 “Like hell it’s nothing. If Granger is telling me something is wrong, then something is wrong.” Memory Draco notices memory Harry wince when he grabbed his hand. 

 “What is this?” Memory Draco is staring at the healing wounds of ‘I must not tell lies.’ 

 “I can handle it.” Memory Harry gently takes back his hand and gives memory Draco’s hand a soft squeeze. Memory Draco shakes his head. 

 Memory Draco joins the Inquisitorial Squad. Next, they are back in the Gryffindor Common Room, studying for class. Memory Harry is sleeping behind memory Draco on the couch. The lighting shifts to daytime as the arrangement of people change. Memory Draco is laying on the couch and memory Harry is on the floor. 

 “You need to be careful, Harry.” Memory Draco warns. 

 “I’m always careful.” Memory Harry scribbled on a parchment. 

 “She’s on a war path. She’s going to find out. She’s going to find you all in that room one day. I can only stall her for so long.”

  “Just warn us. I gave you the coin. You still have it, don’t you? Haven’t lost it yet?” 

 “Malfoy’s don’t loose things. Unlike some people.” Memory Draco held out a piece of parchment over memory Harry’s head. “Maybe I should give Umbridge this mysterious list that I found in the Halls. Just fluttering about. A very mysterious parchment that has a list of names who, coincidently, all belong to your Defense Against the Dark Arts class.” Memory Harry snatched the paper, “nice name, by the way. Dumbledore’s Army. Terrifying.” memory Draco chuckled as the scene faded.

 “You really need to stop sending me notes.” memory Draco commented as he opened his potions book. They were currently in the Slytherin dorms. More specifically, they were in the dorm room. Memory Draco was sprawled on his bed and memory Harry was carving into Draco's bed-frame. 

 “It’s the only way I know you are listening. You are almost as bad as Hermione. Whenever I talk to you, I feel like you would hear what I say more if I was a book.”

 “I don’t think I could hear more of what you say, but I doubt I would listen to you. Even if you were a book.” Memory Draco tossed a pillow onto memory Harry’s head. 

 “Did you read it?” 

 “No.” 

 “You never answered me.” 

 “I don’t want to answer you. You are too demanding.” Memory Draco draped his arm across his eyes. Memory Harry got up from the floor and crawled onto the bed, laying next to memory Draco. 

 “Just give me an answer.”

  “No.” 

 “You don’t have to be scared.” 

 “I’m not scared.” 

 “Then why won't you-“ 

 “Because!” memory Draco sat up quickly and turned to look at memory Harry. “He’s back! And the break is tomorrow. Why, when we could all be dead come sunrise, why would you ask me to go out with you if the war could break out tomorrow? We have more pressing matters to worry about than whether or not I’ll date you.” 

 “I don’t think there is anything more important.” 

 “I beg to differ. Every other day your scar hurts. Umbridge was a terror. Your God-Father just died and you almost died! Again.” Memory Draco hit memory Harry’s shoulder, hard. 

 “Just answer the question, Draco. The war could break out tomorrow.” Memory Harry cups his cheek. “I was told from a reliable and very intelligent source that it is possible that we could all die come sunrise.” 

 “You are intolerable.” memory Draco pouts. 

 “You are a saint then.” memory Harry whispers back. 

 “I hate you.” 

 “I can live with that.” memory Harry rests his forehead against memory Draco’s as he continues, “if you would do me the honor of answering but one question.” 

 “It’ll never work, Potter.” 

 “Will you go out with me?” 

 “We could die tomorrow.” memory Draco pleads.

 “We could die tomorrow.” memory Harry replies before leaning forward, his lips just brushing memory Draco’s.

  The memory fades in and out to a memory Hermione standing and waiting by the Black Lake as memory Draco quickly walked up to her. 

 “We don’t have much time.” Memory Draco spoke quickly. “I have a plan, but I need you to keep this with you all the time. It’s what I’m going to be using to communicate with Snape and Dumbledore this summer. I need you to do this for me. For Harry. Please. Just. I know we haven’t always got on, and I was a prat- am a prat- but this is important. I know I can trust you. You don’t need to trust me. Just promise me that you will keep this.” Memory Draco looked panicked. And pale. 

 “This is when you gave me the notebook. It was the last day of 5th year, just before summer break.” Hermione provided. Draco nodded that he heard. 

 “If you have any information that you think is important for me to know, you can write to me. But just know that it won't last on my pages long. You are my extra copy.” memory Draco shoved the book into memory Hermione’s hands. 

 “Draco, how could you doubt that I wouldn’t do this? With everything that’s happened, with everything that could happen soon?” Memory Hermione held onto the book tightly. 

 “I just need to know that you will look out for him. He doesn’t do it himself. And I won't be around to.” 

 “Ron and I always look out for him. We will all be together for 6th year Draco. It’s only the summer.”

  “A lot can happen in a summer,” memory Draco offered her a smile. Memory Hermione threw her arms around his neck in a brief but firm hug. 

 “We will see you on the first day of term,” she whispered.

 “You knew.” Hermione held her hands over her mouth as she spoke, wide-eyed. “You knew you were going to take the mark this summer.” 

 “How could I not know?” Draco ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I heard. I got an owl from mother. It didn’t say it outright, of course, but I knew. I knew he was there. He moved in right before the attack on the ministry.” Draco closed his eyes. “There’s more.” 

 Memory Harry shoved memory Draco into an empty classroom. He yanked up memory Draco’s sleeve and saw the Dark Mark for the first time. The look of betrayal when memory Draco explained he had done it to help save them. Harry crying because they could have found another way, even though they both knew there wasn’t one. 

The following memory was of Memory Draco looking at his calendar that read “May 6th.” 

 “That’s this Tuesday.” Hermione looked over at Draco, who had gone pale. 

 They followed him to the boy’s bathroom. memory Draco was sweating and couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he mumbled to himself “You can do this. Just like the two of you planned.” Memory Harry stormed in. They throw a few curses, memory Draco tries to “Crusio” memory Harry, but nothing happens. Memory Harry sends “Sectumsempra” at him and four long cuts open up across his chest. Memory Draco is laying in his own blood. memory Harry runs and pulls him to his chest whispering “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it would do. Please don’t die. Draco, Draco I’m sorry. I was just so angry. I didn’t know.” 

 As the new memory unfolds, it is clear that these events have to happen. That Draco and Hermione had to make sure these memories happened. Memory Draco was trembling as he go up from his bed fully dressed and his face contorted with worry. He pulled out from under his bed the black book and opened it. His hands are shaking when he writes _June 28th, 1997: It’s starting._ They watched as he hastily puts it back under his bed, careful to leave it directly behind the small snitch carved into the frame, and walked out the door. The room shifts to the Room of Requirement. Draco can feel the sweat building on his skin. He knows what's going to happen.

 “I was hoping it never worked,” Draco whispered as memory Draco took a few breaths before placing his hands on the doors of the large black Cabinet. 

 “What is that?” Hermione asked as memory Draco opened the doors. 

 “It’s a Vanishing Cabinet. It’s what I’ve been stalling.” He watched in horror as black smoke filled the room and Bellatrix emerged from within the inky void. 

 The room shifts as Draco wonders if Hermione is even breathing. How will she look at him now that she knows what he’s been doing this year? 

 “You are the one that’s been hexing students.” Hermione breathed and she closed her eyes, "Harry was right. Your entires..." 

 “Snape and Dumbledore…” Draco’s voice trails off as the scene unfolds. Memory Draco has his wand raised at memory Dumbledore. They are on the Astronomy Tower.

 “Draco, you don’t have to do this,” Dumbledore says calmly. His wand is on the floor, memory Draco must have disarmed him.

 “I do! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my entire family. He’ll kill them all.” Memory Draco’s hand is trembling. 

 “There is another way, Draco. It’s not too late.” 

 “It is too late. He chose me.” 

“Draco,” Dumbledore says soothingly, “It’s never too late.” 

 Memory Draco starts to lower his wand but then Bellatrix and a group of Death Eaters invade the tower. Snape is the last to enter. The noise is muffled. Bellatrix is saying something, but it wasn’t important enough to past Draco. Dumbledore’s voice filters through the nonsense. 

 “Severus, please.” Memory Snape steps between memory Draco and Dumbledore. “Severus.” 

 “Avada Kadavra.” Memory Snape says and memory Dumbledore falls. Hermione chokes on a sob. Draco feels like he can’t breath. He was supposed to do that. They didn’t tell him they had a different plan. He didn’t know how relieved he would feel knowing that he didn’t have to… Draco’s mouth went dry. He would have to make sure someone killed Dumbledore. If time had shifted then there was a possibility that Snape wouldn’t make it in time to intervene. 

 The memory fades away and what fades in makes Draco’s blood run cold. Memory Harry’s dead body being carried by memory Hagrid surrounded by rubble. His mother called to him. The tone in her voice must have been a signal of some kind because memory Draco ran and threw his wand in the direction of memory Hagrid. Just then memory Harry jumped out of his arms and picked up the discarded wand. Just as memory Draco crossed paths with memory Voldemort, memory Harry called his name. Memory Draco looks into those green eyes. Memory Voldemort casts the Killing Curse. Memory Harry is screaming his name as memory Draco steps forward into Memory Harry’s arms. Memory Harry sends a Killing Curse at memory Voldemort, who blocks it. Memory Longbottom comes from behind Draco and Hermione to take over the fight. The memory begins to fade around the edges and Hermione grabs Draco’s hand tightly. Memory Hermione and Weasley are wrapping a thin golden chain around memory Harry and memory Draco. 

 “Remember what I told you, Harry. I don’t know what is going to happen but don’t change anything drastically.” Memory Hermione warns.

 “The date. You have to remember the date. Shit, ‘Mione, what is the date?” Memory Weasley rambles. 

 “It’s the second of May 1998. Harry, Harry you have to pay attention.” 

 “Right, Right. May 2, 1998. I remember. Don’t fuck up too much because it could fuck up everything.” Memory Harry gives them a shaky grin. Memory Hermione and Weasley nod giving him varying degrees of a smile as they point their wands at them. 

 “Ad punctum fixum in tempore,” they say in unison. 

 The scene warped around them and they are on the Hogwarts Express. Memory Harry and Draco are the last ones off. Draco is gasping for breath, tears streaming down his face. Harry is crouched down next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

 The scene twists into the fight on the Quidditch Pitch. Then it morphs into the Slytherin locker rooms. 

 “Look, Harry. You need to listen to me.” Memory Draco tucks the book into his cloak pocket before turning around. “Your plan, it can’t continue. You are going to rip the fabric of time. I’m supposed to die. You have to accept that, you must-“ Memory Draco stops speaking once he realizes that memory Harry has his wand raised at him. “Harry.” 

 “No, you listen. I’m tired of people telling me what I’m supposed to do. You can’t tell me that I have to watch you die again. No. We didn’t spend the time looking for a spell to take us back in case Voldemort won to just accept that- No. I told them, I warned them. If something went wrong with your ridiculous plan, then we would still use it. Your plan did go wrong.” Memory Draco opened his mouth to say something, but memory Harry took a step closer, his wand still raised. “It did go wrong. You not making it, that’s the definition of going wrong. It’s time for my plan to have a go. You can’t be certain that this isn’t the right choice anyway. Time is funny like that. We could have already done this.” memory Harry embraced memory Draco tightly, the tip of his wand just touching memory Draco’s temple. 

 “Harry listen to me.” 

 “No. I won’t. I won’t lose you.” Memory Harry seemed to gather himself as he inhaled deeply, “I won’t lose you because you refuse to see that this is possible. That we can change it.” 

 “Harry, please-“ 

 Hermione and Draco are back in the Slytherin locker’s, alone. Draco stumbled back, tipping the chair over. He had died. He was dead. He wasn’t supposed to be alive. He was going to die. He had just watched himself die. He would have to die. Draco turned and ran out of the locker rooms and didn’t stop when Hermione yelled his name. He didn’t think of where he was going and just ran, and ran.

 

 


	11. The Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gathering themselves together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short interlude to tied you over until I get the next part in order. And by short I mean this is really short but I feel like it needs its own part.

He didn’t know how long he sat on the edge of the Black Lake, but it was long enough for his body to stop shivering. It may have been May but the air was still icy when the sun went down and Draco left his cloak and vest back in the locker room. His entire body felt like it was on fire but numb at the same time. It was an odd sensation and it kept him from focusing on what just happened. His eyes focused on the moon reflecting on the waters surface.

“Draco…” a soft voice floated through the silence. His head whipped around, but nothing was there. He was about to stand to leave, but a hand appeared out of thin air and grabbed onto his forearm. “Draco, don’t be a prat.” Hermione’s head popped out next. Draco sat back down, wide-eyed as Hermione Granger appeared to be forming from nothing.

“Is that…”

“It’s Harry’s, but yes.” Hermione sat right next to Draco, touching from hip to shoulder. It was strangely comforting to know that even after everything she saw, Hermione was still willing to trust him. Hermione slowly draped the cloak over both their heads. “Just in case someone gets too nosey,” she whispered.

“Since when…” Draco’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, what was wrong with it?

“Since first year, it was his father’s.” Hermione brushed her thumb across Draco’s cheek, had he been crying? “He also has this parchment. It’s of the school. It’s easier if I just show you.” She brought her bottomless bag into her lap and rummaged around until she brought out a rather ugly piece of parchment.

“That, looks like trash.” Draco bluntly stated.

“Yeah, well” she chuckled as she tapped her wand on the front of it and cleared her throat, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” She passed Draco the parchment as the ink spread across it. She gently looped her arm through his, lacing their fingers together and resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Let me guess,” Draco opened up the Marauders Map, “Also from Harry Potter’s father.” Hermione ‘hmmm’d’ at him.

“It’s a map of the school. It shows where everyone is all the time in Hogwarts.” She flipped open a flap and pushed the map flat. “There we are,” she pointed to two sets of footprints by the edge of the Black Lake with floating tags “Draco Malfoy” and “Hermione Granger.”

“This…This explains a lot.” Draco said, fascinated as he saw all the student names still mulling about in their common rooms and Dumbledore pacing.

“I’ll admit to having witnessed Harry looking at it a lot recently.”

“I knew he was following me.” Draco said fondly, “he’s such a liar.”

“You can take the map. So you can get back to your house without any trouble. It’s late enough that Filch will be on the prowl. This way, Harry won't have it either.” Hermione squeezed his hand.

“Did you…”

“I burned it all. My notes. Your memories. I thought it best,” she sighed.

“It wouldn’t be safe for us if they were known, I agree…” Draco squeezed her hand back. “You should go back before Weasley goes on the rampage.” Hermione snorted.

“And leave you here to freeze? No.” She managed to get closer to him still, “I’ll leave when you are ready to go back. We are in this together, Draco. I’m going to help you whether you want me to or not.” Her grip on his arm and hand were painful yet reassuring. Draco simply closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He was just so tired of fighting. Tired of doing it alone.

“Alright,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this isn't a Draco x Hermione fanfiction. I'm just a sucker for their bromance.


	12. The Slytherins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to be closing in on Draco and maybe he can't do this alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me. I have had a mean case of writer's block, but I think it's cleared out for now.

Draco stared at himself in the mirror. He had been unable to sleep the entire night and it showed in the deep purple under his eyes. After he and Hermione parted ways at the moving staircases, he made it to the dungeons in record time. He did almost get caught by Filch but luckily he had the map out _(thank you, Hermione!)_ and hid in a storage closet. Draco then stayed in the common room studying the map by the fire. He had watched Hermione make it safely back to the Gryffindor tower without a problem until she entered it. Waiting for her on the other side was Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Hermione’s feet stood still and then walked up to them at the same time as they advanced. Draco hoped that they didn't give her a hard time and that she hexed them both if they did. Weasley and Hermione went up to bed, but Harry had stayed there. When Harry didn’t move for a while, Draco opened the map completely. It was larger than he had originally thought. Each common room had an extra flap that could be pulled open to expose the rooms and showed each student in their rooms. In the kitchens, there was just a jumbled pile of feet and names so close together that it was illegible. Draco figured they were probably the house elves. He found himself drawn back to the Gryffindor common room. He had watched Harry pace back and forth, stop, then continue. Then all of a sudden the sun was rising and it was Monday. It was Monday and today he had to get in contact with Hermione to tell her his plan for Tuesday. Somehow. Draco sighed as he placed both of his hands on his face and pulled down on his skin. He needed to look less… like shit.

“Draco?” Blaise yawned, “I swear you preen yourself more than Pansy.” Blaise was pulling his vest over his head as he walked up to the mirror.  “You look like shit.”

“Thank you, Zambini. What would I ever do without you?” Draco rolled his eyes as he turned to go to the bathroom.

“You’d probably walk around not knowing you look like shit.” Blaise followed him into the bathroom, “but seriously, Malfoy, you look terrible.” He elbowed Draco lightly in the side as he put his toothbrush in his mouth. “Wha’ ih’ it’? Doeh som’n’ nee’ duh beh hecks’ froh’ ‘ere tuh ‘awaheh?”

“Did you grow up with muggles?” Draco splashed water onto his face, “spit, then talk.”

“ ‘Racoh, yuh knoh I ne’er spih,” Blaise spit and rinsed his mouth, chuckling. Draco made the most disgusted face.

“The Weasley’s must have raised you. You are disgusting.” Draco headed for the door but before he could get there Blaise grabbed his wrist.

“Seriously Draco, what’s wrong?” Blaise watched him closely. Draco had been aware Blaise’s skills of perception, but Draco must have been slipping up recently. “We’re mates, right? I got your back. Want to skip class? I’m your guy. Need to blackmail someone into letting you copy their assignments, I’m there.” Blaise shut the door. “If you need help executing whatever plan that _He_ has you doing, I can help with that.” Blaise’s grip was firm as he continued, his voice dropping to a low whisper, “if you are planning on being stupid and need help, I am willing to do that too.” Draco felt the blood drain from his face. When Draco didn’t respond, Blaise let go of his wrist and turned on the three faucets to drown out his words. “Are you back with him then? I’ll be honest, Pansy and I had a bet running on how long it would take you both to get your heads out of your asses. If your back together then... what?”

Draco stared at Blaise in disbelief. He didn’t know that they knew about that. He didn’t know that he had trusted them enough to tell them anything. But then again, he didn’t know himself anymore.

“I…” Draco was at a loss for words, thankfully Blaise was not.

“You’ve been acting odd recently, so I’m actually glad I caught you before you pissed off again.” Blaise leaned back against the edge of one of the sinks. “I was hoping you had stopped with the ‘I am a sneaky little shit and won't tell you anything because of bullshit.’ You know we have your back. Pans, Astoria, Vince, and Greg. Are things getting too heated on the savior side of things? Do you need to run? because that plan could still work out. Or-“ Blaise stopped talking when Draco’s shoulders started to shake. “Draco?”

Draco started to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said between his hysterics. His lack of memory was going to kill him, or at least drive him insane. He tried to stifle his laughter by covering his face with his hands, “I just,” more laughing, “I don’t,” laughing and then, “I’m terrified.” He was crying. Again. Jesus, he was a pathetic Malfoy. Blaise probably thought so as well.

“We all are,” Blaise confessed, which took Draco by surprise. They were all prideful and admitting a weakness, let alone showing it, was something Slytherins just didn’t do. Blaise was suddenly hugging him tightly. “Fuck this war.” Draco laughed between sobs. _Yes. Fuck this war._

________________________________

After Draco got a hold of himself after his meltdown, he decided that he needed to know what exactly Blaise knew. They stayed behind when the other Slytherins went down for breakfast and sat on the plush green couch. Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you this year?” Blaise kicked Draco’s knee as he placed his feet on the low table in front of the couch, “because it would help to keep me from turning into Peeves’s crazy ass, trying to guess what is going on. It’s like you don’t trust us anymore. You don’t talk to me or even Pansy! Merlin, Draco, you hardly sleep. I hear you tossing and turning all night long since the beginning of the year. Your skin might as well be transparent with the amount of food you pretend to eat. I’m not stupid enough to think this is just Potter. So spill.”

“I’ve been Obliviated,” Draco blurted out. The shocked expression on Blaise’s face caused Draco to tug down on his cuffs. “A form of Obliviate, anyway. I don’t remember any fine details since 4th year, other than recent developments.”

“Was it _him?”_ Blaise asked, sitting up.

“Who?” Draco didn’t want to give too much information, not until he knew what Blaise knew.

“The Dark Lord. Is it because he found out about your relationship with Potter? or was it punishment for your father’s failures?” Draco stared at him for a moment before he shook his head. “But you do know who did it.” It wasn’t a question so Draco didn’t answer, and for that, he was grateful. “What do you need me to say for you to tell me what in the bloody fuck is going on?” The look in Blaise’s eyes caused Draco to look away before responding. He wasn’t used to such intensity, but something told him that he once was.

“I need to know what you know already.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Well,” Blaise huffed, “that could take longer than we have.”

“Don’t be difficult, Zambini. Anything related to Death Eaters, the war, you know, life or death. I don’t need to know who’s been screwing in the broom cupboards between classes,” Draco rolled his eyes in amusement. He didn’t need to know everything Blaise knew from gossip. Blaise nodded and leaned back into the couch.

“Last year when Umbridge began to implement those bizarre rules and shady detentions, some of the Slytherins began to whisper about sides. Dumbledore or You-Know-Who. I think a lot of us began to question Umbridge’s ethics once she got a hold of some of the first years. You came to us maybe a week before the Inquisitorial Squad. I think what Astoria did really changed your mind, you know?” Blaise looked over at Draco but when he didn’t respond Blaise whistled low, “shit. You really don’t remember any of this do you?” Draco shook his head and Blaise let his head fall back against the couch. “Astoria had already distanced herself from the more ‘Death-Eater-enthusiasts’ since the we heard of the return of You-Know-Who. Well, when her younger sister was sent to detention with Umbridge and came back crying, Astoria burst into our room and started going off. She was lucky that you put up a quick Muffliato because she was about a tick away from Avada-ing Umbridge herself. The next day you cornered me to ask how I felt about the You-Know-Who and his ‘cause.’ You asked Pansy if she really wanted to die for a cause she didn’t believe in anymore the day after that. We’ve kept Vince and Greg in the dark about most of it just to keep them from getting caught by the wrong sorts. When we joined the Inquisitorial Squad it was more to keep an eye on things but also to convince those who need to be convinced that we were on You-Know-Who’s side. To trust us enough not to keep such a close eye on us. At the end of last year, when your father was sent to Azkaban, we all thought it best if we had a plan to help anyone of us escape the castle and, potentially, the country if it was clearly unsafe. It was more for you than anyone else since your family seems to be in You-Know-Who’s crosshairs.” Blaise glanced over at Draco as he continued, “you dismissed us, of course. Saying that you were the one that brought us in and you would make sure we got out before you did. Very Gryffindor of you. Potter was rubbing off on you by then. Right under our noses. We didn’t know you were canoodling with the savior until  last year either.” Blaise smirked at the flush in Draco’s cheeks. “You had this plan that we still don’t know, but you promised to tell us what we needed to know. This year you told us about the Dark Mark. It was obvious you and Potter were butting heads since you two walked through the doors and it was more than just for show. Then we assumed that the two of you split because you two stopped disappearing on us.”

“How, how did you guys find out about… All that?” Draco coughed to cover his embarrassment.

“Are you serious? You don’t remember that either?”

“I do not.” Draco sniffed, “I don’t remember anything having to do with Potter.” 

“Fuck, you know what. It’s too good not to tell you then.” Blaise said seriously, “I ran into our room during lunch because I forgot something for a class, last January, and walked in on you and Potter snogging. You pushed Potter so hard he fell onto his ass and I freaked out that I turned ‘round and ran right into the door frame. It was a site.” Blaise chuckled and sighed. “It was nice to know that you weren’t trying to trick us all. That you were honest about changing sides.” Draco smiled softly. He wished he could remember, but he knew it was unlikely that he ever would and at this point, it was still strange to have all these accounts of him and Potter together. Unreal. Unthinkable. 

“You two were good.” Blaise patted Draco’s knee. “What’s the plan. I know you have one. You always do.”

Draco knew he was being foolish, but he decided to trust Blaise. To trust his apparently small group of friends that had been blindly putting their trust and their lives in his hands. Draco told Blaise about everything he and Hermione had discovered. He told Blaise about his plan on how to handle Tuesday. The only thing he chose to leave out were the little black books. It took them an hour to sort through exactly what was what. 

It took them half an hour to explain to Vincent, Gregory, Pansy and Astoria what was happening, ten minutes to keep Pansy from cursing Harry, and less than 3 minutes to explain their roles for the plan for Tuesday. 

 

_________________________

During lunch, Draco watched Pansy run directly into Hermione from the Slytherin table. He hoped that Pansy remembered to slip Hermione the Puking Pastille and not get distracted by playing her part. Pansy pushed Hermione and he could see the moment Hermione figured out what was happening as she whipped out her wand. Perfect. Draco knew he liked her for a reason. He had written to Hermione ‘ _May 5th; Lunch: Planned. Meet: Charms.’_ Vague but to the point, he had to scribble it in without the other seeing.

Draco could hear Pansy’s cursing at Hermione over the dull roar of the Great Hall. Greg placed a plate of food in front of Draco when he sat down, causing Draco to look up.

“You look like a Dementor.” Greg explained and shoved food into his mouth. Draco felt his mouth twitch as he felt a bit of warmth find its way into his chest. He looked down at the food and schooled his features before picking up a fork and stabbing a mushroom.

“He’s right!” Draco looked up as Pansy sat down across from them, a wide grin on her face. “That felt wonderful! It’s been so long since I started a fight.” Draco noticed a cut on her chin.

“I told you not to fight her.” Draco threw a napkin at Pansy.

“I didn’t.” She picked up the napkin and dabbed at her chin, “it was fucking Finnegan! Didn’t you hear him? He made his bag explode and a pencil grazed my face. He needs an intervention, I don’t think he’s gotten the hint to annunciate. 6 fucking years and he’s still a little pyromaniac.” 

“You’re lucky I dragged you away when I did,” Blaise said as he reached across Pansy for a bread roll. “That pencil would have gone in your eye. I think a Hufflepuff got hit in the forehead with a buckle. Had to go to the infirmary. Poor innocent bystander.” Blaise took a bite of the roll, “brilliant fight, though.”

“Close your mouth Blaise, that’s disgusting.” Pansy shoved the napkin she just used on her chin in Blaise’s face.

“You’re one to talk. Oi! That has blood on it!” Blaise batted Pansy’s hands away as he chewed with his mouth wide open. Greg and Vince laughed on either side of Draco as they continued to eat on. Draco felt the warmth in his chest. He could get used to this.

—————————————————

“You want to what?” Hermione asked.

“Imperio Potter.” Draco rubbed at his temples. They had been arguing for the past 15 minutes. “It’s the only way to get the memory to happen. I don’t see him using Sectumsempra on me otherwise.” 

"But Harry can throw off an Imperio. He did it 4th year,” Hermione argued. 

“I know, but it's a risk we have to take. Unless you have a better idea because this is the best plan I could come up with." Draco waited for a response and wasn't surprised when all he got was a head shake and a distressed groan. He sighed, “you don’t have to be involved Hermione. I told you, Blaise and the others, they’re willing to help.”

“No. No. I said I was in this, and I meant it.” Hermione hit her head against the wall. They met at the Black Lake and had walked around to the back of the castle, near the Herbology Greenhouse, since Herbology met on Tuesdays and not Mondays. “Let’s go over it one more time. Tomorrow night, during dinner, Harry needs to get to Myrtle’s bathroom…”

“You just need to get him there. Astoria is going to already be there, we are going to need the cloak to keep her hidden, then she’s going to Imperio Potter and make him use Sectumsempra.” Draco placed his hand on Hermione’s shoulder, “we have to make sure this happens. Once that’s done, Pansy is going to get Snape. I know Myrtle is the one that went in the memory, but I am going to get her to leave, somehow. She’ll just complicate things since we need Astoria to be in there before Potter gets there and corners me unknowingly.”

“I know, I know.” Hermione rolled her head from side to side. “I could tell him that you are up to something. That usually works” she smiled sadly, “I could just say that I smelled Polyjuice on you during Advanced Arithmetic. And That I saw you and your cronies heading for the Chamber of Secrets. That could distract him enough to get there. He still thinks you don’t remember anything.” She ruffled her hair in frustration, “if that doesn't work then I’ll have to use Locomotor on him.” 

“Ok.” Draco nodded to himself, “ok. I’ll have Astoria meet you at breakfast tomorrow to get the cloak.” Hermione nodded. “alright then. I have to get my essays done tonight for tomorrow. So I am going to go.” Hermione nodded again and then went up to Draco and hugged him tightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don't know when it is going to get less angsty. You're welcome.


	13. The Girls Bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry didn't expect this to happen when Hermione told him that Draco was up to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I just want to make sure I give the characters the time they need to process and come to terms with what is happening. I hope you are all enjoying the ride. I know one of my friends hates me because I'm pecking at her feels. 
> 
> Feel free to comment! I would love to hear from you guys.

Draco was already in the girls restroom on the third floor when Astoria rushed in, cloak in hand. He spared her a quick glance, then nodded to the first stall. Astoria quickly got under the invisibility cloak. They were cutting it close. Hermione couldn’t get alone to pass off the cloak until 10 to 6. Draco rolled his shoulders and walked over to the sinks and stared at his reflection. He looked terrified. He felt frustrated. Now, all they could do was wait and it was killing him. Draco thought he couldn’t breathe, yanking his sweater over his head and throwing it into the sink. He can do this. He needs to. He can’t let his nerves take over. His eyes stung with tears he refused to shed. He closed them for a moment.

"Hermione I don't think he is in here-woah! What the-" Hermione had pushed Harry inside and shut the door. Harry pushed the door, but it didn't move. Draco froze. Showtime.

“What’s going on, Draco?” Harry demanded, turning to face him.

“Isn’t it obvious.” Draco breathed out before turning to face him. “We’re setting you up.”

“What? What do you…” Harry’s voice trailed off as his face morphed into realization, “wait. Do you-”

Astoria chose that moment to throw the invisibility cloak to the floor and draw her wand in one fluid motion as she shouted, clearly, "Imperio!" Harry’s eyes dulled and his face slowly lost its emotion.

Draco pointed his wand at Harry and yelled, “Cruisio!" and when nothing happened he cursed under his breath. It would have been easier to set this up properly. If they decided to check their wands, it would have been less suspicious. It was never going to be easy for them. Draco walked around and shot off a few spells causing damage to the bathroom to mimic a duel. Once he was satisfied that it looked as legitimate as it was going to get, he turned to face Astoria and Harry. “Do it now.”

“Harry, take out your wand,” Astoria said calmly.

There was a moment when nothing happened and Draco held his breath. It was either going to work or not. If it wasn't going to work, they would have to- but then Harry slowly took out his wand.

“Harry, use Sectumsempra on Draco,” Astoria commanded softly.

Harry stood with his hand outstretched and pointed right at Draco’s chest but then stopped. His wand started to tremble and his knuckles were turning white. Draco saw Harry clench his jaw and that’s when he knew Harry was fighting back. He was going to break out of it. A split second later, Harry was lowering his wand and his mouth was opening to say something. Draco had to think quickly or else they would have to go to plan B. So he chose. Draco’s eyes darted around the room, the floor was quickly being covered by water from the sinks he destroyed and the bits of debris from the walls wouldn’t help him unless he used it hit Harry, which was out of the question. Then perhaps, if Draco wound him up enough, their location and similar atmosphere would trigger a natural reaction. The reaction that Harry had already done. So Draco ran and tackled him to the ground. Harry struggled to get out from underneath him, growling in frustration when Draco gripped his wrists and pinned them by his head.

“Let go, Draco!” Harry shouted.

“Why do you care?!” Draco gritted his teeth as he drew back his fist and punched Harry in the jaw. Harry blinked, stunned, then threw his entire body weight up into Draco and flipping him off with a yell. Draco fell onto the waterlogged floor, soaking him from head to toe. Harry was standing and Draco had to keep Harry off balance, shake him up emotionally. Maybe… Maybe if he asked then it would work. **“** Why did you let me forget!?” Draco spat from where he sat. Harry turned to face him, his eyes wide and his face drained of all color. Draco used the shock to his advantage and lunged at Harry, knocking them both to the ground again. Draco yelled as he punched Harry in the stomach, “why did you make me forget!?”

“Because it was the only way to keep you safe!” Harry was on his feet and Draco was up not a second later. Harry turned to walk out and Draco grabbed him around the shoulders from behind. As Harry tried to shake him off and he hit Draco against the wall to dislodge him. When Draco’s back hit the wall, his head went back and cracked against the wall, his mouth hitting the back of Harry’s head.

“Why are you lying?” Draco whispered as he let go of Harry and they both just stood there for a moment struggling to breathe. Harry took a few staggering steps away from Draco, wiping the blood from his own mouth. Draco couldn't tell if it was blood or water dripping down the back of his neck, but it didn't matter. The first plan failed. That means they had no choice and that Draco had to think fast because Harry was staring at Draco like he was going to start talking. Draco could see the gears turning in Harry’s head by the emotions crossing his face. Just as Harry was opening his mouth, Draco took his chance.

“Astoria!” he ran and pushed Harry as hard as he could, causing Harry to slip and fall back onto the floor. “Hex me! Now!”

Astoria wasted no time and yelled "Sercumsempra!"

Draco’s eyes went wide as he felt the pain blossom when wounds began to split on his face and chest. He could feel the blood quickly escaping the slashes and that sensation caused him to stagger back and crumple to the floor, his hands going to his chest to try to slow the bleeding. Harry ran over to him, putting pressure on the split skin and gushing blood. Harry’s covered in blood and yelling at Astoria. Draco couldn't hear what he had said because all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and the rushing water around him. Harry’s sleeves looked like he had been elbow deep in a beryl of ox hearts. He wiped a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face with his forearm, leaving blood there instead. Something moved from the side of the room, but Draco couldn’t focus on it. It could only be Astoria getting back under the cloak to get Snape.

“… and I can’t believe you, you idiot!” Harry shouted. He had been shouting for a while, but the pain was making it hard for Draco to focus. What had he said before that?

“Who… Me?” Draco said between labored breaths. He tried to laugh, but winces and groans in pain.

"What were you thinking, Draco? Why are you-“

“I know,” Draco whispered.

“I know you know, I’m not stupid! Otherwise, how would you know of that spell? Why would you ask me…” Harry’s voice trailed off as he took off his vest and pushed it down on Draco’s chest.

“Shit,” Draco inhaled sharply.

“Sorry.” Harry said with no ounce of remorse and pushed harder, forcing another pained breath from Draco. “You need to stop talking. Astoria went to get Snape. He should be here soon. You better not fucking die here. You are such a pain in the ass. Why couldn’t you leave this all alone?”

"You... You aren't the only one,” Draco gasped, "who can be stubborn”

“Fuck being stubborn, Draco. This is just plain stupid. And stop talking. " Harry clenched Draco’s hand that was still on his chest. The pain was getting worse with every breath, but Draco still wanted to know.

“I will always remember,” His voice was a rasping whisper. "Why is it… why did we-” the blood running into his mouth choked him, causing him to cough. It hurt so much.

"Stop." Harry's voice trembled as he leaned over Draco, "stop talking.”

“Tell-“ Draco furrowed his eyebrows when Harry glared at him.

"If I tell you, will you shut up,” Draco nodded and grunted in pain at the motion. Harry squeezed his hand and he squeezed Harry's harder. Harry just shook his head.

"I borrowed it… From Snape. Uh, yeah. I know. Weird but, but when we came back, at first, I told you about him. And what happened. When- when he died, in the battle, he gave me some memories for the pensive and I looked. And he loved my mum and Dumbledore asked him for how long and he said ‘always.’ He was always trying to protect me for her. He loved her so much that it changed his life. So I-"

"Potter! What have you done!" Snape entered the bathroom in a rush and pushed Harry away from Draco. Their hands slip apart, the pain, weakening Draco’s grip, but he did his best to hold onto Harry's gaze. Even though the edge of his vision began to blur.

"I-I didn’t-" Harry stammered out. Draco’s tried to focus on him, but the darkness was creeping in.

"Enough. You’ve done enough. Get out." Snape starts the counter curse. Draco passes out from the pain. But not before seeing the look of devastation crossing Harry's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all don't hate me too much. I'll make it better one day.
> 
> Please tell me how I'm doing.


	14. The Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has some conversations with people that need to be talked to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while (for me). I hope you enjoy the much needed conversations.

Draco woke with a start. His chest felt heavy. Draco glanced around the room. Hospital wing. He stared at the ceiling. How long had he been out? Draco carefully stuck his hand down his shirt and let his fingers find the letters carved into his chest. Draco sighed, still there except… his fingers cut across the ‘wa’ to follow the new thicker scar that ended right under his ribs on the opposite side. “Always,” Draco whispered. _I’m getting sentimental. The only question I need the answer to is one I won't know until it's too late_. Draco closed his eyes and scrunched his nose in thought.

“If you aren’t careful, your face is going to get stuck like that,” Astoria said as she walked up to his bed.

“That is an old muggles’ tale.” Draco quipped. He frowned, his voice sounded odd. She smiled slightly as she sat down. “How long have I been out?”

“A week.”

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing…” Astoria smirked.

“Astoria,” Draco warned.

“There’s a rumor that Harry kissed Ginny a few days-“

“What?” Draco demanded and slammed his fist on the bed next to him. Astoria’s laughing brought him out of his sudden flair of anger. Blinking, a blush rushed to his face in embarrassment and cleared his throat. “I mean… What?”

“Oh my god!” Astoria said between laughs, “that was priceless. Your face.” Draco arched an eyebrow at her when her laughs turned to small chuckles that suspiciously sounded like a wheeze. 

“Astoria!” Draco snapped.

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help it,” she took a calming breath, but couldn’t quite keep the smile from her face. Draco shot her a glare as he crossed his arms over his chest.“Ok, ok, relax.” He winced when his arms pressed against his chest. Astoria quickly sat on the bed next to him, “relax, Draco,” She grabbed his arms, pulling them to her lap, “and don’t do that. Madam Pomfrey will come back and get you a potion for the pain. I heard Snape and Pomfrey talking,” “it’s because the spell was a dark curse that the pain will still be there for a while.”

“I’m not surprised. I overheard Snape and Pomfrey talking.” Draco leaned against Astoria, “it’s a spell that Snape made up. He doesn’t know the lasting effects.” They sat in silence for a few minutes while and Draco scrunched up his nose thinking about how he was going to ask her about-

“Harry is fine.” Draco blushed, “he’s actually been in here every day. Granger and Weasley _finally_ got him out of here to shower. He was starting to mold.” Astoria wrinkled her nose as she giggled and patted Draco’s knee. “They’ve been gone a while so I suspect that he-“ 

“I don’t understand why you feel so guilty that Draco’s in the hospital wing. It’s been an entire week, Harry!” Weasley’s voice echoed through the wing.

“Ron!” Hermione yelled.

“It’s my fault.” Harry’s voice sounded exhausted.

“Speak of Lucifer and he shall answer,” Astoria muttered.

“Shut up,” Draco huffed. Astoria sat back in her chair and handed Draco a glass of water. He leaned back against the headboard, propped up against his pillow, as he sipped it. His throat feeling sore from lack of use. He had been out for a week. They both sat there in silence while listening to the Golden Trio’s chatter.

_____

Astoria got up before the trio got to Draco’s bed, but he didn’t let go of her hand. She sat back down when they approached.

“Draco, how are you?” Hermione said, coming around to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Astoria. “How long are you going to stay in here?”

“Since when is Malfoy, _Draco?”_ Weasley sounded scandalized. So scandalized that Draco couldn’t help himself. He squeezed Astoria’s hand to get her attention and smirked. She raised an eyebrow at him in question when he let go of her hand to turn and face Hermione. He took her hand in both of his.

“Oh, do not fret _Hermione,”_ Draco purred her name, his thumb caressing Hermione’s knuckles, “I am in perfect health and should be out of _this_ bed soon.” He brought her hand up to his lips. He grinned against her skin when he heard Weasley sputter.

“Hermione!” he yelled.

“Shut up _Ronald.”_ Hermione dropped Draco’s hand, “and Draco, stop it. You are just being an ass. Hospital bed or not, I will hex you.” She sat down in one of the chairs.

“What is going on!?” Weasley said frustratedly. Everyone was silent. Draco leaned back into his propped up pillows. His chest was starting to ache. He didn’t even know what his face looked like but he didn’t want to let on that he was worried about these ‘effects’ in front of the Gryffindors. Draco glanced up at Harry, who had been unusually quiet since they entered the Hospital Wing. He was staring hard at the tiled floor just at the foot of Draco’s bed. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was drawn into a thin line. Harry’s hands were in his pockets.

“Granger, Weasley, I was about to get Madam Pomfrey since Draco is awake, would you two like to accompany me? We can swing by the Great Hall and get lunch. Have a picnic of some sort in here.” Astoria smiled politely as she stood, her voice was soft but left no room for argument.

“That sounds like a great idea, Greengrass! And call me Hermione,” Hermione got up and squeezed Harry’s shoulder as she passed, whispering into his ear, before grabbing Weasley’s elbow and turning him towards the door.

“Wait, we just got here. And we can’t leave Harry here. He’s-“

“Not eaten since yesterday afternoon. We should let him sit while we get food. Maybe Pomfrey can give him a Pepper Upper.” Hermione tugged on Weasley’s elbow until he reluctantly followed.

“Maybe they’ll have treacle tartor chocolate gateau, mate,” Weasley called over his shoulder.

_____

The room was silent after Astoria, Hermione, and Weasley left. Draco sat in his bed and Harry standing awkwardly a few feet away with his eyes still glued to the tile floor. And he was fidgeting. The room was so quite that Draco could hear Harry’s hands in his pockets clenching and unclenching.Draco closed his eyes and silently counted to ten. If he didn’t stop fidgeting, Draco was going to snap. 7… 6… 5…

“Will you sit down!” His voice cracked slightly. Well, he tried. Harry’s eyes snapped to Draco’s before he blushed out of embarrassment. It took himlonger than necessary to move to the seat that Astoria had been sitting in. He still wasn’t looking at Draco and it took him even longer to open his stupid mouth.

“What were you thinking?” Harry said quietly to his lap, “you could have been killed.”

“But I didn’t. And I wouldn’t have.” Draco stated. He didn’t like how timid Harry was being. It was unnerving.

“How could you be so sure?” Harry looked up then, his eyes hard and full of anger, “how are you so convinced that you wouldn’t have died?”

“It happened already, hasn’t it?” Draco snapped. He was getting agitated. It could have been the dull pain in his chest and throat that was keeping him on edge but it could have also been the silence that followed. “Have nothing to say now, do you? Your idiotic plans have failed and now what? Are you just going to sit there and say nothing?” Draco huffed, “do you think I wouldn’t find out? That you would try to Obliviate me after bringing me back and you think that I’d be stupid enough to not leave myself clues?” he knew he wasn’t leaving room for a response but he couldn’t help it, he was just too angry. “You should have listened to me. You should have let time repeat itself. You could have ruined everything. Voldemort could win now because of you. You are an idiot! I can’t believe you think that this would have worked, that any of your plans could have worked. You can’t change the past. You can’t bring someone back to life. I will die anyway. If not now, I will later. You can’t stop it. You can’t change it. I’m sure Hermione would have told you all of this by the time this fantastic idea came galloping into the empty space between your ears. You can’t save me. You aren’t responsible for saving everyone. You need to stop with this hero complex. You are so stupid. Accept it. I will die. I’m going to-“

“SHUT UP!” Harry yelled loud enough that it his voice rang out. He was breathing heavily and his fists were clenched in his lap. Draco was stunned into silence, trying to control his own breathing. He hadn’t realized he was ranting until Harry had yelled. “You are the idiot. What do you know about time travel? What do you know about what has or hasn't happened?? You don’t know what your talking about. Talking like you know everything is different than actually knowing. You think _I’m_ the idiot? I’m not the one that purposefully cursed himself with a spell he didn’t know. I’m not the one that has been putting my life in danger. I’m not the one-“

“I’m not the one that thinks they can change the past without repercussions!” Draco cut Harry off, “you think that by changing what happened will save me? It won’t!” Draco laughed, “you think making me forget is going to change what happens? If I don’t remember what happened, how would I know not to do it? I was something before you, _Potter._ My life never revolved around you. I had my own ideas. My own plans. You think just because,” Draco waved a hand between them, “ _something_ happened between us in the **_past_** makes a difference on who I was, who I am? If you do then you are the biggest narcissist that I’ve ever known, and I have met Voldemort.” Draco was seething. How dare he? How _dare_ he? “How dare you diminish who I am to what I was with you.”

“That’s not-“

“That’s not what? What you 'meant'? Then please enlighten me, Oh-Chosen-One, what is it that you fucking meant because it sure sounds like that’s exactly it.”

“I can’t-“

“Can’t what? Explain? is it so difficult, so secret, that you can’t explain it to me, but you can erase memories-“

“Will you shut up so I can explain!?” Harry demanded, slamming his fist onto the nightstand next to the bed. “Will you shut. The. Fuck. Up? For one fucking second.” Harry sighed when Draco didn’t speak. “Finally, Merlin’s beard.” He took his glasses off and ran his free hand through his hair, mussing it up more than it already was. 

Draco watched him carefully. He looked tired, the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could cure. He had bags under his eyes almost as dark as Draco’s and now that Draco was looking, his hair looked like he had been pulling at it for hours. Draco’s eyes followed Harry’s hand from his hair to his lap. There was black ink on the side of his hand and a few blue staines on his palm. Has he been brewing potions? The green on his wrist and sleeve could have been GlubberWorm slime. Or grass. He also noticed that Harry’s tanned skin was also paler than he remembered. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. He was doing that a lot lately, maybe Astoria was right for teasing him. He continued to squint because he couldn’t tell if the dark blemish on the exposed skin of Harry’s collarbone was a bruise or…something he didn’t want to know. Draco looked back to Harry’s face and realized that he had been caught looking. Harry had, at some point, put his glasses on and watched him, was still watching him. Draco swallowed down the feeling bubbling up due to the intense gaze.

“I forgot what that looked like,” Harry said softly.

“What?” Draco’s voice sounded hoarse, he blamed it on using it so much after being unconscious for 7 days.

“The face you make,” Harry smiled slightly, “when you’re thinking.” Draco couldn’t stop the blush this time. Harry sighed as he ran his hand back through his hair. “I do owe you an explanation but I think it needs to go both ways,” Draco snorted and Harry glared at him. “I’m serious. How do you even have your memories back and why do I get the feeling Hermione knows a lot more than I think she knows?”

“Hermione always knows more than you think she does.”

“Yeah well. You know what I mean.” Harry scooted the chair closer to Draco’s bedside and he seemed to collect himself. “How about you tell me how you got your memories back, then I’ll-”

“No. You should explain yourself first.” Draco crossed his arms across his chest and ignored the pain it caused, “it’s the least you could do.” He wasn’t about to tell Harry that he didn’t have all his memories back until Harry explained himself.

“Fine.” Harry touched Draco’s elbow and Draco flinched. Harry sighed heavily and retracted his hand, “can you, at least, stop causing yourself more pain,” the surprise must have shown on Draco’s face because then Harry said “we’ve been here before, remember?” Draco slowly unfolded his arms. “You’ll have pain for a few more days. 3 tops. How’s your face feeling?”

“Fine,” he snapped. He wasn’t going to tell him it burned like he was on fire. He may have had a past _whatever_ with Harry but he wasn’t about to show weakness. Not now.

———————-

“Sooo, I guess, I guess I’ll start at the beginning,” Draco rolled his eyes and Harry sighed, “of the plan, you tit. My plan. As to why we are in this situation.” He leaned back in the hard chair and looked out the window behind Draco. “Obviously, you didn’t think anything bad would happen to you,” Draco snorted, _that was unlikely._ Harry glared at him,“OR, you just didn't care.” _That sounds more likely._ “You didn’t tell me much about what you had been doing other than Snape and you were” Harry put up air quotes “ and I quote, ’just like 007, but much cooler and smarter about the entire covert parts,’ your words, not mine.” Harry chuckled at the face Draco was making, “I’m serious. We; Hermione, Ron, and I, were trying to come up with a safety net plan, in case, I couldn’t defeat Voldemort.” Harry paused searching for the words, rubbing the back of his neck, “by the time-“

“Don’t tell me specifics from the future. You could botch everything more than you already have,” Draco warned.

“Things. By the time things happened. You and I were… were really close and then…” Harry’s voice trailed off before an aggravated sound escaped his lips, “then there were more important things to do instead of sitting around and talking about things no one thought would happen. And then there was…Ugh. You died. You died and they knew how I felt. And of course, they didn’t approve of it when I originally brought it up, before. I did it anyway knowing I could potentially break the fabric of time because… Look, I know I’m not the most tactful or the most detail oriented person. I know that. But when I saw you get hit, I knew I only had a few moments to decide anything so, I guess, just instinctually, I ran to you and they ran to us. And then, we were back here. We weren't sure when we would end up but, I had to try.” Harry looked desperately into Draco’s eyes, “you have to understand that, I had to try. If there was any chance at keeping you alive I had to try it. And then we were here and I thought I could change everything. That I could, at least, change things subtly enough where I could keep you… alive. But then you noticed. You noticed what I was doing, you realized that I was following you. And of course, you did, you're brilliant. And I shouldn’t have been surprised that you figured it out. We were fighting constantly because of it. I tried to stop but when I saw you going into Snape’s office every other night, I couldn’t take it. I knew we would just be repeating everything. Then I remembered Lockhart and Hermione. They both used a memory charm to erase something and that Hermione took herself out of existence in her parents memory. I figured, if I could do that, then things may work out. Obviously, I was wrong. Things just reset themselves, just without me being involved.” Harry slumped his shoulders in defeat, “that’s about it. I can’t tell you anything else without specific events.” Draco nodded. He expected as much and Harry’s version of events lined up with what he’d seen in the memories. Harry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “your turn. How do you have your memories back.”

“I…” Draco tilted his head from side to side. This was either going to be a good idea or a bad idea, only time would tell. _Oh, the irony._ “I apparently figured you were going to do something stupid. So I had a plan myself.” Draco took a deep breath and continued, “I apparently placed memories aside in case I was right, which I was. Before I figured it out, though, I had approached Hermione and she found it odd that I called her a mudblood and asked to talk privately. She and I worked out what you had done, so she knows everything. She was also there when I watched the memories and helped me extract them. We’ve been in contact and meeting up for a few months, actually. She…” Draco hesitated, he didn’t want Hermione to get a backlash for any of this, “she was opposed to the entire… set up in the bathroom. She didn’t know any of the details. Each person only knew their part, so they wouldn't be focused on any other part of the plan.”

“That explains why she came back so late last week,” Harry commented, realization dawning on his face.

“Yeah, we were looking at all the memories,” Draco cleared his throat and winced. 

“That’s not all of it,” Harry wasn’t asking, just commenting.

“No, it’s not,” there was no point in lying.

“And you aren’t going to tell me,” Harry apparently knew him better than he thought.

“No. I’m not,” Draco shook his head and looked at his lap. When Harry didn’t say anything else he scrunched his nose and furrowed his eyebrows. How could he tell Harry everything now when even Past Draco hadn’t told him everything. Obviously, he knew that Harry would overreact or get upset about what he was doing and his plans. He couldn’t throw away everything he had done just because-

The feeling of fingers running across his jaw and a hand cupping his face startled him. 

"You're going to have scars on your face now." Harry's face was pulled into a frown as he looked over Draco’s face. His other hand slightly shaking as it traced lines Draco couldn't and hadn't seen. The light touch ran diagonally from right under his left eye, across his cheekbone, and over the bridge of his nose. Another across his left cheek and brushing across his bottom lip to the right side of his chin. Draco felt like he was in a trance. Harry's calloused fingers were soft and gentle as they cataloged the differences between the Draco that Harry remembered and the Draco sitting in front of him. The last one started from behind his ear, cutting down his jawline and across the front of his neck. When Harry's thumb softly crossed his Adam's apple, it made sense as to why it hurt to speak and why his throat hurt when he first woke up.

"Snape showed up later, this time around." Harry's eyes traced the lines that decorated Draco’s face, his hand on Draco’s neck sliding to the back of his neck. "Probably because Astoria can't go through walls like Myrtle could have." Harry's eyes stopped to look at the end of the scarring that fell across his lips. "He probably couldn't undo all of it because of that..." Harry's eyes flicked up to Draco’s and he felt him searching. Searching for something that wasn't there anymore. Draco felt a flutter of anticipation in his chest and swallowed. Just because he didn't remember them as anything didn't mean he never wanted it before then. He must not have kept what he was thinking of his face because then Harry was smiling softly at him. Draco glared.

"What are you smiling about? What about this situation is even remotely amus-"

Suddenly Harry's lips were on his and Draco’s words seemed to be eaten up by Harry's mouth. Draco froze.This was his first kiss. Well, first one that counted. But then, it wasn't. It was his present first kiss, but he knows they had shared more than that before all this. If he had any doubts about a-a thing with Harry, this kiss would make them disappear. His body seemed to relax on its own. He released a shuddering sigh as Harry pulled away. "Sorry," he mumbled against his lips before leaning back into the chair. "I was just... Scared. So scared. That I'd lost you." Harry was looking at his hands which caused Draco to notice that they were shaking. "Again. That I'd lost you for good this time. Since, since I must have changed something enough for the bathroom scene to play out differently. When I saw Astoria..." He paused and tried again. "When Astoria cast the curse and it hit you and... And you fell." His fingers were gripping his jeans. Draco’s heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't know how Harry couldn't hear it. "I thought that the curse killed you. Because it wasn't me that cast it, " he laughed bitterly. And it sounded a bit waterlogged "I thought I'd killed you...again" he whispered.

"I'm not dead yet." He said stubbornly and bit the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from saying anything he would regret. That stupid feeling in his chest had come back while Harry was talking and settled, refusing to leave. Of course, he seemed to constantly fail at keeping his feelings from cropping up every time those green eyes looked at him, so he wasn’t too surprised that he failed to do it again. Why deny the fact that he had actual feelings for Harry, at least, to himself. Draco bit his bottom lip. He knows they were _something_ to each other. _Then_. It could have been real. It would have helped if Pensieve memories contained the feelings with them. He was too much in shock over the entire thing to _feel_ anything about them. It would have been helpful if he hadn’t been _Obliviated_ , too. He closed his eyes. At this point, without the emotional attachment to each memory, he did reclaim, it may as well have been a plan to get Voldemort to take Draco away from Harry, an easy in for Draco to be a spy. _Actually, that’s not a bad plan._

They sat in silence. Each with their own thoughts about what had been exchanged. Words and actions. Draco couldn't believe how reckless the stupid bloody Gryffindor was. He had jeopardized everything they had done, they had worked for, to save one person. _What a fucking idiot._

“Thanks,” came Harry’s rather flat reply. 

“Say that out loud, did I?” Draco really didn’t care, he was an idiot.

“Yes. Yes, you did.”

_________________________________________

Madam Overreactor told Draco that he had to stay in the Hospital Wing for the next two days to make sure there wasn’t any lasting damage. Of course, Draco immediately tried to escape. He made it all the way to the double doors before Pomfrey materialized out of nowhere and tugged on his ear all the way back to his bed. That woman was vicious and so abusive to her patients. If he was so unwell, why was she tugging on his ear? Draco crossed his arms. He was annoyed just thinking about it.

“Sulking are you?”

“I am not sulking, _Blaise_ ,” Draco grunted, “I am silently protesting the cruel and unusual ways this place of healing treats it’s injured.”

“I hardly think ear-tugging is a physical offense,” Blaise laughed, “I’ve got your homework for the week you missed. Most of the professors are giving you some slack but then you know Snape, not holding the punches,” Blaise tapped on the potions book, “you owe him three essays, each 2 feet long. I know he wants us to have mastered at leave 5 nonverbal spells. It’s a pain in the ass because most of us can barely get 1 down.”

“At least, I can count on him taking our education seriously. I shouldn’t be given a pass on most of my subjects just because I’m unable to attend. Do these people care about us being ready for our N.E.W.T.s?” Draco grabbed his potions book from the side of the nightstand, “please tell me Slughorn at least assigned me something appropriate.”

“Looks like he…” Blaise’s voice trailed off as he looked down his list, “did not. He was teaching us how to brew Draught of the Living Death-“

“That isn’t even a challenge.” Draco snorted.

“But he has you writing an essay on poison antidotes,” Blaise finished as if Draco didn’t say anything. Draco groaned. How was he going to get Outstanding’s in every subject if he was dealing with incompetence and unnecessary “compassion.”

“This is ridiculous,” Draco took out a quill and a roll of parchment, “I might as well do this now since you should go to class. Take notes, Blaise. I hate the way Pansy writes her notes for Arithmancy.”

“Yes, Foojer” Blaise clicked his heels together and saluted Draco before walking away.

“It’s Führer!” Draco yelled, “idiot.”

“Good afternoon Headmaster, Professor,” Draco heard Blaise say as he opened the doors.

“Good afternoon Mr. Zabini, on your way to class I hope.” Dumbledore greeted.

“Of course sir! Can’t leave Draco without his precious notes,” Blaise replied.

The door closed and Draco watched as Dumbledore and Snape made their way to his bedsit.

“I hope you are feeling better, Draco,” Dumbledore said as he came up to the side of Draco.

“I would feel better if I could get out of here,” Draco retorted.

“Nonsense, you must rest up. We have a lot to discuss. I hear a lot has developed this year.” 

“Understatement of the year, Headmaster,” Draco declared.

“Draco, we must discuss what will happen soon,” Snape interjected, “we still have yet to come to an agreement on how to handle the-“

“It can wait, Severus, we should discuss the recent developments that we have yet to know.” Dumbledore said.

“Don’t act like you don’t already know. And don’t lie to me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the portraits movements. I’m sure they have informed you of every conversation I’ve had in front of them. I know that you know more than anyone what is happening. Headmaster.” Draco pointed out. Dumbledore hadn’t said a word to him, personally, all year. Not even when it was obvious that something was wrong with him. Dumbledore had to have known. There were portraits in the damn locker rooms for Merlins’ sake. “I’m not a fool and I refuse to be seen as one.”

“I do apologize if you feel that way, Draco, but that was not my intention. I’ve been busy with my own matters, loose ends, as they say. We are all aware of what is quickly approaching, Draco, we are concerned for you. There is another way for this entire business to happen. As I’ve mentioned, Severus and I have a plan to absolve you of any bond between yourself and Voldemort. Whatever it is,” Dumbledore looks pointedly at Draco, “Snape will do it.” Draco shook his head.

“That is beside the point, Professor. Harry needs to be kept safe. I know you know about the Time-Turner. I know you know about certain events that must occur. I need you to promise me that Harry doesn’t get hurt. He has to make it out of this.” Draco did his best to keep his voice stern.

“We will all do our best, Draco. He will be as safe as he has ever been,” Dumbledore promised. 

“Which is not at all,” Draco added.

“You will watch your tone, Draco,” Hissed Snape. Draco had forgotten about him lurking in the room with them.

Within the hour, Draco had told them _mostly everything_ that had happened since the memories were recovered and they had come up on some sort of plan on how to deal with Voldemort’s task. Dumbledore was already dying. A piece of Voldemort’s soul in a ring turned his hand black. Dumbledore called it a Horcrux. The entire idea of Horcruxes made Draco’s head swim. Snape told him that it was possible that the large snake, Nagini, was one of them, and they were still trying to locate the rest of them. 4 others. Draco would have to keep his eyes open and his ear to the ground once everything was set in motion. Something told Draco that they still weren’t telling him everything but he pushed the thought back. This wasn’t the time to be second-guessing, he had to focus. Draco had to let the Death Eaters into the castle and Snape agreed that it would be the best time to execute the task. To give Snape and Draco more credibility on where their loyalties lay. Draco informed them that it had to happen on the Astronomy Tower. That’s where the Death Eaters would find them, and Draco had to disarm him before they got there. No pressure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear from you all. See if you even like where this is going? Or love to hate, is probably more appropriate. I am working on the next chapter, so hopefully it will come out in the next few days.


	15. The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets released from the Hospital Wing and gets straight back to work. Unfortunately for Draco, Weasley is waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year guys! I hope you enjoy your night.

Once Draco was released from his imprisonment and he successfully avoided Harry for two weeks. Between catching up in school work, meetings with Snape, and fixing the Vanishing Cabinet, he barely had time to sleep. He would not let this entire war and drama take control of his studies. His studies were the one thing that he could control. He was up on time and in class before anyone else. He didn’t care that people were giving him odd looks and even some of his fellow Slytherin were starting to talk. He was keeping to himself more than usual and even Pansy had given up trying to get him to skip classes. He had to get Outstandings in his N.E.W.T.s and if what he knew was going to happen soon, it would be while before he could get the rest of his schooling done. It would be a while for anything.

It was the last week in May when he came up for air and realized that the clock had started ticking again. What he definitely did not expect, was the Weasel currently standing in front of the Room of Requirement.

“Ferret,” Weasley grunted.

“Weasel,” Draco looked Weasley up and down. He looked ruffled, more than usual, dare he say, almost as bad as Harry. Of course, it wasn’t the fact that his clothes were a mess that didn’t sit well with Draco, it was the expression on his freckled face. “What is it?” he demanded.

“Harry’s gone, went with Dumbledore, somewhere. Thought, since Harry left pretty sudden, that you should know,” he sounded too casual, even a little forced. Draco looked at him skeptically as he continued, “Hermione’s doing research,” he said curtly, “so it’s me here instead of her.” Draco decided that Ron Weasley was full of shit.

“Why are you really here?” Weasley sighed and Draco noticed the tips of his ears started to turn red. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, clearly annoyed. Weasley coughed and cleared his throat.

“I’m to help you. In there. Fixing that,” a pause, “thing,” he rubbed the back of his neck in apparent irritation. Draco noticed some dirt on his face. _Typical_. “Look, you can wipe that look off your face. I’m pretty good at fixing things. Have to be when you can’t just run to _Daddy_ to buy everything brand new.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Draco snapped. How did Hermione think they were going to get along.

“Sure,” Weasley snorted, “I’m still here to help,” he clasped his hands behind his head as he turned to face the wall that was the hidden entrance to the Room of Requirement. “So, let’s get this over with.” His voice was either sulky or scornful, Draco couldn’t tell.

So, Draco just stood there a moment and contemplated about what he should do. The Weasel wasn’t smart enough for this to be a trap but it was always a possibility. But then, if Hermione suspected any foul play, would she still risk sending the Weasel here? Draco shook his head. No, Hermione is smarter than that. He looked down the hall then back at Weasley.

“Don’t get in my way, Weasel.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.”

—————————————————

Working with Weasley wasn’t as bad as Draco thought it was going to be. Weasley worked on his side of the Vanishing Cabinet while Draco worked on his. Besides the occasional question, Weasley was oddly silent. Which irked Draco because, to his recollection, Weasleys were rarely mute. Draco had to assume that Hermione had informed Wesley of what was actually going on, or at least, part of it before he ventured here. Either that or he was extremely trusting and, therefore, an idiot because his questions were about a specific spell or wand movement. Draco was leaning toward the latter because of the incessant glances in his direction. After the 6th time, Draco had had enough.

“What is it!?” Draco snapped. Weasley jumped and held his wand up in defense when he whipped around. When he realized that he wasn’t in any immediate danger, he lowered his wand and threw Draco a glare before getting back to work on his side of the cabinet.

“What is what?” Weasley said in irritation.

“Why do you keep looking at me like I’m about to torture some first years?” Draco climbed into the cabinet and raised his wand upwards.

“What?" Weasley’s voice sounded confused, “what are you on about?”

“The look you have on your stupid face. It’s the look you have been throwing at me for the past two hours” Draco huffed as he got to work on the ceiling of the cabinet.

“You are barking mad if you think that's what I’m thinking,” Weasley stated, sounding cross.

“Then inform me, _Weasel._ What _is_ your problem? Can’t stomach helping a Death Eater?” Draco gritted out, gripping his wand tightly.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” Weasley sounded annoyed as he walked over to the doorway of the cabinet, “what has crawled up your ass and died?”

“Why are you helping me?” Draco demanded as he turned to face him.

“Hermione asked me to,” Weasley said firmly but clearly exasperated.

“We hate each other,” Draco said incredulously.

“Not since last year,” Weasley rubbed his face with both hands, “and I only didn’t come up to you sooner to ask why you were being a prat, was because… well, Harry caught me when I was just about to look for you and said you wanted us to leave you alone. Because of…” he waved his hand in the air, “it doesn't matter, does it. He was lying.” Weasley shook his head and walked to the other side of the cabinet, “everyone is always bloody lying to me,” he muttered, “like I’m an idiot. I knew something wasn't right. I told Hermione when I saw Crabbe skulking about the corridors at night without you.”

Wait for a trick, that… That didn't sound right. “What?” Draco walked out and around the cabinet over to Weasley.

“We were getting on real well, we were mates even, at least getting there, before all… that. You and I, I mean. Harry and I were always mates. And you knew that. Yeah, and, and now, I was only. Ugh,” Weasley turned to face Draco, waving his hands around as he spoke, frustrated, “I just don’t know how- What I’m saying is-“

“Shut up. Your verbal constipation is unnecessary.” When Weasley just glared at him, Draco tried again, “I get the idea. I meant, what did you say about Crabbe?”

Weasley blinked stupidly before he replied, “You mean about him skulking about the castle back in November?” Draco nodded. “Well, it wasn’t unusual until I realized he was alone. I was doing Prefect rounds, you know, not sure which level but I know it was somewhere he shouldn’t have been. It was after curfew. Well, it had to be, otherwise, I wouldn't be doing Prefect duties-“

“Yes, I get it. Get on with it,” Draco interrupted. Weasley let out a frustrated puff of air.

“At least your still a pain in the ass,” Weasley offered a small smile, was he teasing him? “He just looked suspicious. I felt it in my gut.”

“Is it the same feeling you get when you think about food? Because that isn’t the same thing.”

“Oi! Shut it.” Weasley snapped. “He was out after he was supposed to, alright. That’s suspicious enough. Slytherins out and about the castle when everyone else is sleeping is always suspicious.” Draco fixed him with a glare. “What? It’s true. You have been out on the grounds when everyone else is dead asleep, and you have been up to something.”

“So was Hermione,” Draco said between clenched teeth.

“Yeah, well. She’s Hermione. The only time she gets in any trouble or breaks any rules is because of one of us.” Weasley offered. Draco stared at Weasley, not really believing what he was saying. Was he included in this ‘us.’ The slow grin spreading across Weasley’s face seemed to suggest it. “Come off it. You know it’s true.”

“You are a moron,” Draco said matter-of-factly, but he was inclined to agree. Just not out loud.

“Your current phraseology astounds me,” Weasley said skeptically. 

Draco let out a startled laugh.

“Shut up,” Weasley was agitated but his mouth twitched.

“What did she do, throw a dictionary at you?” Draco choked out between his laughter. Weasley’s face turned a bright red as he remained silent. “Oh…Oh, my god. She did!” That was it, Draco leaned heavily on the Vanishing Cabinet as he grabbed his side, howling with laughter. “She said I was ‘daft’,” Weasley held his hands up in mock surrender, “I told her, ‘how could I be something I don’t even know what it means.’ She screamed and threw the book at me.”

“No, shut up” Draco laughed, “you can’t. No Wait. I can see that. Oh, Merilin.” Draco slid down, laughing. “God,” he sighed, leaning on his elbows, head in his hands. This was so messed up.

“Yeah well. Not so funny being on the receiving end.” Weasley sat cross-leggedbeside him. “She’s a smart one, that girl. Too much for her own good sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Draco breathed.

“She told me you know. Everything,” Weasley offered a shrug, “since Harry already knows, I can’t possibly ruin any plans.”

“Yeah.” Draco smiled slightly.

“You didn’t know, did you.” It wasn’t a question. Draco shook his head.

“No,” he didn’t know Crabbe was doing his own recognizance.

————

They met the next day after dinner. This time, the transition from outside the room to inside was smoother. They worked silently with a few bantering remarks. Draco could only tolerate so much inadequacy. When they decided to stop for the day and emerged from the Room of Requirement, they came face to face with Hermione and Harry. Draco noticed that Harry looked as tired as he did when Draco woke up in the Hospital wing. He looked like someone punched both his eyes.

“‘Harry, your back!” exclaimed Weasley, excitedly, “you look like shit.”

“Feel like it,” Harry replied in good-nature. His smile slowly fell when eyes shifted over to Draco.

“Harry came to the library as I was leaving and we thought we’d wait to walk with you guys,” Hermione said a little too happily. They walked down the hall in a blanket of awkward silence. Draco wasn’t going to start the conversation, he didn’t know them. They weren’t friends, to him, not this time. He rubbed his arm to dispel his anxiousness energy. How was he supposed to act? He hadn’t talked to Harry in at least a month and twiddle-dee and just-plain-dumb obviously planned this. Let them fill the air.

Time ticked on. The quietness of the hall and the click click click of their shoes on the stone floor was getting on his nerves. So when Weasley finally broke the tension, it was a relief.

“I’m so hungry,” whined Weasley, “felt like we were in there for ages, right Malfoy?” Draco nodded, latching on to the subject. “Next time, we should sneak some away. For a snack.”

“Must you always think with your stomach?” Draco muttered. Harry choked. Draco raised his eyebrow at him. “The Chosen One doesn’t know how to breathe? I might as well kiss the Wizarding World goodbye then, shall I?” Harry flushed as he continued to cough. He seemed to be torn between laughing and smothering himself.

“And live as a muggle? Now that, I would pay an obscene amount of Galleons to see,” chuckled Weasley.

“When it comes to you, the only thing obscene is the way you eat,” Draco quipped. This time, Hermione snorted.

“You all can kiss my ass, yeah?” Weasley huffed.

“You have to admit, mate. He’s got a point.” Harry patted Weasley on the back reassuringly

“But it’s also why we keep you around. If only to eat our leftovers!” Hermione joked, poking Weasley’s side.

“Get offa me!” Weasley pushed Harry away, “I quit!” and he ran up the stairs.

“Oh, we’re here already.” Hermione giggled, “we will see you tomorrow Draco. Get some sleep, you look like you could pass out any minute now.” She hugged Draco and smiled, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Hermione,” Draco replied, and she too, went up the stairs. It had been a while since Harry and Draco had been in proximity to one another, let alone being left alone. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. “Well,” Draco coughed, “I’ll be off then.”

“Draco, wait,” Harry grabbed his wrist, causing Draco to turn around. When he didn’t say anything, Harry continued, “I wanted to talk about-“

“No, don’t. It’s fine.” Draco did not want to talk about anything that had happened between them.

“But I think we really should-“

“No.” Draco stood his ground, “you have to realize I am not the same Draco as before. I don’t…” his voice trailed off. He didn’t what? have feelings for Harry? that would be a lie. He had always had some sort of feelings towards him. Envy, hate, dislike, tolerate, like…affection. “I’m not him.”

“You are,” Harry stated, his hand still holding Draco’s wrist.

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“How can you be sure about that?” Draco shot back, “you can’t even be sure that I feel anything towards you. I could hate you!”

“If you did, then I’d deserve it, with the stunt I pulled. Even if it were true, you will always be the Draco I-”

“What if I’m not.” Draco cut him off. He couldn’t bare hearing Harry say that word. 

“Are you telling me that You don’t know if you are Draco Malfoy or not?” Harry teased.

“You know what I mean!” Draco yelled, his voice echoing in the deserted hall. He blushed. Draco pointed his finger at Harry as he continued in a lower voice. “I’ll just disappoint you like I disappoint everyone else.”

“That’s impossible,” Harry said softly.

“You are impossible,” Draco yanked his hand away from Harry’s gentle fingers, “you aren’t even listening to me.” Draco headed for the staircase that lead to the Slytherin dormitory. He got about half way down when trembling yet strong arms encircled his waist. Draco drew in a sharp breath as he was embraced.

“Don’t go yet,” Harry whispered, dropping his forehead to rest of Draco’s shoulder, “I know I’m being, being selfish. But you have to understand,” his whisper sounded desperate and it caused Draco’s chest to ache. He wanted to make it stop sounding like that, but he didn’t know how. “You have to understand that I know you.” Harry breathed, “I know how you were without me. Before anything else. You can’t stand here, and deny that you are who you are. Your past, present, hell, even your future self, you are all the Draco I…” his voice cracked. Draco was trembling, he felt like crying. God, was that ever going to stop? He felt torn. He wanted to comfort Harry but he didn’t want Harry to think he remembered because he didn't. He did the only thing he could think of, deny. Deny to keep Harry safe. Harry would be better off if he didn’t know that Draco had any inclination towards him.

“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled, slowly placing his hands over Harrys, “I’m not him.” Draco careful got out of Harry’s embrace and walked the rest of the way down. He didn't dare turn around to see if Harry was still there, watching him.

 

—————————————————-

It became a routine for all of a week. Weasley would meet him there. Then they would leave and be met by Hermione and Harry, who she just ‘happened to run into.’ and they would engage in small talk as they walked Draco to the staircase that lead to the dungeons. Harry seemed to be sulking until Draco caught his meaningful glances and small smiles. Draco would swallow roughly and feel the annoying tug in his chest. He didn’t know how long he could keep up the charade. He was feeling the pressure and he didn’t want them involved in what he was about to do. If anything, they should stay far away from him. So, when Weasley and Draco had finally fixed the Vanishing Cabinet, he avoided the Golden Trio. He would actively avoid the Black Lake. Detour away from the locker room. Skip lunches and dinners. But he knew in the back of his mind that Harry could still be following him. After all, he had returned the map to Hermione when the bird came back through the cabinet, dead.

What he didn’t expect was for Harry to corner him in Potions.

“Potter! What’s up? Not enough Death Eaters out there to keep you busy? Do you even have enough time to be messing in Potions?” Blaise’s voice rang out in the empty classroom. _Great. Now what._

“This isn’t even your class, Potter.” Draco drawled. He rolled his shoulders as he looked up at the board, pretending to copy the homework. When Harry didn’t reply. Draco continued with his notes for Blaise and the others, jotting down their roles for that night. _Hopefully, Blaise will remember to burn the fucking thing._

“Potter? What are you doinghere?” Pansy sat on Draco’s desk, “don’t you have the world to save?” she teased, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m not here to play with you lot. I need to talk to Draco,” the way Harry said his name was slowly becoming his favorite sound, Draco shook his head. _Can’t be thinking that way_.

“Obviously, he’s busy right now, so why not play with us?” Blaise’s voice was further away this time so he must have moved closer to where Harry was standing. _Bless Blaise._ Draco quickly folded up the paper and slipping it to Pansy, who stuck it down into her bra. _Pleasant._

“I don’t have time for this. Draco. We need to talk. Now.” Harry said sternly. Draco turned around in time to see Harry practically growling while Blaise just grinned. Draco rubbed his temples. He couldn’t believe he actually had to deal with the idiots currently occupying the room.

“Down boy,” Pansy said as she made he way over to the pair, “Blaise, let’s go to dinner. I’m sure _Draco_ can handle himself.” Pansy smirked over her shoulder when she looped her arm through Blaise’s. She patted Harry’s head patronizing when she passed him, “if he’s not in the Great Hall in 20 minutes, I will come down here and save the Dark Lord the trouble,” she smiled, “clear, Potter?”

“Crystal,” Harry wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were trained on Draco. 

“See you in twenty,” Blaise wiggled his fingers in Draco’s direction as they walked out the door. Neither spoke. Well, if Harry wasn’t going to talk, then he might as well leave. Draco pried his eyes away from Harry and shuffled the books and parchment on his desk into a neat pile. The rustling of papers must have broken Harry out of his trance because all of a sudden he was in front of Draco, both hands on his desk and leaning entirely too close.

“Don’t go,” he demanded. When Draco continued to put his neat pile into his bag without replying, Harry sighed heavily, his breath brushing against Draco’s cheek, “I know you heard me,” Draco opened his mouth to speak but Harry kept talking. “And don’t you dare tell me you have no idea what I’m talking about.” Draco ran his tongue over his teeth in irritation, continuing his stubborn attempt at avoiding looking into Harry’s eyes.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Potter,” Draco said just to irritate him.

“You have no idea,” Harry scoffed, “you, why do you _insist_ on being so… So…”

“So what, Potter? running out of brain power? I know it must be passed your bedtime,” Draco taunted, the effect lost partly because he was staring down at his desk and pointedly _not_ into Harry’s face and because his voice sounded rather odd when he had said ‘Potter.’

“For the love of- Will you look at me!” Draco felt rough hands gently brush his jaw before his head was hastily tilted and jerked forward. Too stunned, Draco’s wide eyes instantly snapped to Harry’s. “Now that I have your attention. Do. Not. Go.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Draco’s voice was quickly losing its bite.

“ _Please_ don’t come out of your room tonight.” Harry’s thumb was slowly rubbing his jaw. The soothing gesture was quickly dismantling Draco’s thought process.

“Don’t…You can’t just…” Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face and onto the desk, “you can't tell me what to do. You know what could happen.”

“Who cares,” Harry muttered. “Who cares if you bugger off and never open the-“

“Oh, I don’t how, let me think… Hmmmm. Oh, let’s see, You-Know-Who, maybe. He could mind very much. My mother, not to mention my father. They might care. Bellatrix, the woman who will torture an innocent wizard for hours, for no particular reason other than for the sake of it. She might. Just a bit. They all might, perhaps slightly, care about whether or not I do this.” Draco was now standing, mirroring Harry’s stance on the other side of his desk.

“Draco,” soft fingers brushed the in sided of his wrist and only then did Draco realize that he was still holding onto Harry’s wrist. He didn’t let go. “We can keep you safe. Your family, they… They made their decisions a long time ago. I know your parents would agree, when this is all over, that you were alive.” Harry had managed to maneuver his hand so that he was now holding careful onto Draco’s wrist. 

“We could disrupt-“

“Is that really a bad thing?” 

“It is if at the end of it, both Voldemort and I are alive and you aren’t. It’ll matter if Voldemort survives because of something we did. We have to try to correct this timeline that _you_ keep buggering up.” Draco gave Harry’s wrist a slight squeeze before he let go and yanked his arm free. “You’re tunnel vision has made you lose focus on what really matters.” He grabbed his bag and made his way to the door. “You need to grow up and face the facts. If we don’t fix this then the reality of the situation is-“ Draco’s voice was cut off by Harry grabbing his shoulder before he could leave, twisting him around. Harry then pushed him, hard, into the wall next to the door. There was a brief moment when Draco thought Harry was going to punch him in the face and he flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. The sound of air rushing past his ear and a thud caused Draco to open his eyes. Harry had punched the wall right next to his head. Harry’s other hand came to rest on the other side of Draco’s head before he looked into Harry’s face. The crease of concentration, the flush of frustration, and the grimace of grief were etched into Harry’s features.

“I don’t care. God, how many times do I have to say it?” the hand Harry used to punch the wall came down to run through Draco’s hair, cupping the back of his neck. 

_You will not react. Do not react._

“I don’t care about the rest of the world. I didn’t want it anyway. It’s not like anyone asked me. Let them figure it out. Why… Why does it have to be me?” Harry mumbled. “Why can’t they fix their own messed up choices? Why can’t I have what I want? Make my own choices?” his thumb brushed the back of Draco’s ear. “Why is it that I can’t protect the one person I want to protect the most just because it _might_ screw over someone else’s grand plan?” Harry’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. Draco tried his best to concentrate on the chalkboard behind Harry’s head, across the room, he really did. But when Harry’s face got closer to his, his focus narrowed instantly, eyes darting to Harry’s eyes then down to his lips. “Why can’t you see that…That I care if you…if you die.” Harry’s voice trailed off, his lips a breath away from touching Draco’s.

“I’m not important,” Draco whispered. He didn’t dare move.

“Yes, you are,” Harry’s lips brushed his when he spoke, “you are important.” Harry kissed him.

It was soft and gentle. Draco didn’t know what to do but he couldn’t help it when his eyes slid shut. Harry’s glasses pushed into Draco’s cheek when Harry slightly tilted his head down. He couldn’t help himself, Draco giggled against Harry’s out before pulling back slightly. Hurt crossed Harry’s face causing Draco to explain between giggles, “your glasses are digging into my face, Golden Boy.” Harry blushed rather adorably when he mumbled a ‘sorry.’ Before Harry could take them off, Draco reached up and gently removed Harry’s glasses and kept them. “There, now you can’t gouge my eyes out,” Draco smirked causing Harry to laugh.

“Should we try again?” Harry chuckled, brushing a few strands of Draco’s hair behind his ear. “Now that you've taken away my only weapon,” he softly nipped Draco’s bottom lip causing Draco’s eyes to close, “can I kiss you?”

“I don’t know,” Draco spoke softly, “can you?” 

“Must you be difficult?” Harry mumbled, shaking his head, but Draco could hear the smile. 

“With you? Always,” and Harry kissed him. Draco couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped him when their lips touched. One of Harry’s hands slid down Draco’s spine to settle on the small of his back, the other still cradling the back of his head. The kiss was slow and tender like Harry was afraid of scaring him. As if Harry wanted to cherish this moment just as much as Draco did. Warmth spread across his chest. Draco felt so wanted, so… and all he wanted to do was to protect that feeling. Draco took his time to take in everything from this moment. The way Harry smelled like ink and fresh dirt and how soft his lips were against his to the way Harry’s hands seemed to hold on to him like he was going to disappear. When Harry finally pulled away, resting his forehead against Draco’s, they were both breathless.

“Don’t go,” Harry pleaded softly, his eyes still closed, probably to ignore the crushing truths of reality. Draco’s chest to tightened.

“I won’t go,” Draco lied tenderly. Draco could feel Harry relax, his body slowly leaning into him. Draco allowed himself to feel, just this once. Closing his eyes, Draco let him kiss him again. He let Harry press his face into the crook of his neck. Draco tilted his head up to the ceiling, his hands itching to touch Harry. Itching to wrap around his waist and pull him close but he didn’t let himself, that would be too much, too cruel for the both of them. He couldn’t bring himself to ruin this small, stolen moment, either. So he stood there quietly, eyes closed, not pulling or pushing. The night was still young, this could be it.

“Be safe.”

“I’ll be safe,” another lie.

“Stay alive.”

“That’s the plan,” what was one more.

________________________________

Draco ran up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. If he didn’t hurry, he wouldn’t make it. Being locked in the broom closet by _fucking_ WEASLEY was not part of the plan.

“Damnit, Harry,” Draco said under his breath as he climbed the endless stairs. He stopped at the level just under the top floor to catch his breath. He heard the slow shuffling of feet. He was late, Dumbledore was already up there waiting. He quickly turned and ran into… nothing. He furrowed his brows, that was…weird. What was, wait… It couldn’t be, he wasn’t supposed to be here. Draco reached out and his fingers brushed against something soft. He closed his eyes in distress. This wasn’t good. He curled his fingers around the fabric and pulled, revealing an Immobulus'd Harry Fucking Potter. Draco glared at The-Boy-Who-Was-Always-Where-He-Shouldn’t-Be. Harry’s eyes burned with anger and it just caused Draco to laugh.

“You should have realized that the plan was never to keep me safe, Harry.” Draco stepped close to Harry’s frozen form, cupping his cheek. “It’s always been you,” he smiled sadly as he whispered, “always, Harry.” He turned to go but stopped, “Fuck it,” he turned back around and pressed his lips against Harry’s softly. He felt Harry sigh through his nose. It was a quick pressing of lips but if he didn’t do it now, Draco feared he wouldn’t ever be able to kiss him again. Draco stepped back and looked into Harry’s impossibly green eyes. “I’m not sorry for doing this. I think the past me would agree.” and he pushed Harry’s Immobulus’d body further into a corner of the room and draped the Invisibility Cloak back over him. He was taking too long. They would be here soon. Draco ran up the stairs that lead to the last floor.

There he stood. Dumbledore was looking out, where of the chunk of the building had been blown off, at the chaos.

Draco’s hand shook as he pointed his wand at Dumbledore. They would be here any moment and it had to be convincing. Dumbledore turned around just as half a dozen sharp CRACKs rang out. Draco broke out in a cold sweat. They were here.

“It’s ok, Draco,” Dumbledore said.

“I hope it will be,” Draco whispered as the maniacal laughter of Bellatrix echoed from below. “Expelliarmus!” Dumbledore’s wand flew from his hand to the floor.

“Well done, Draco,” Bellatrix cooed through a grin, slinking over to him and draping an arm across his shoulders, “what a good boy.”

Draco remained silent, staring at Dumbledore. Draco was terrified and he felt his face betray him when Bellatrix cackled, “Do it, Draco,” He had to hold his ground for a little bit longer. He had to. Snape would be here and handle it for him. He’d seen it. It had already happened.

“ Good-evening, Bellatrix, in a hurry?” Dumbledore smiled softly. How could he be so calm when facing death? Draco felt ashamed that he was crippled in fear. He had known this would happen and yet he still was on the brink of tears. 

“Oh, Albus. We made a special stop just for you,” her voice was soft as if talking to a former love. She turned to Draco, “do it,” she whispered harshly. When he didn’t move, the Death Eaters in the room started to slowly encroach on him.

“He’s a bitch just like his father,” snarled Fenrir Greyback, “he won't do it.” Draco flinched away from his voice, he could almost taste the smell of decayed flesh that radiated off of Greyback.

“He’s a little shit in the making, let me do it,” laughed Alecto Carrow to his left.

“The Dark Lord was clear, he must do it,” Bellatrix chided.

“Pissin' 'is pants by now, in’t he?” jibbed Amycus Carrow from behind him.

“Kill him!” Bellatrix yelled.

“Let’s see how much like your father you are, boy,” taunted Thorfinn Rowle. They all continued like this until their voices started to sound the same, barking in laughter and shouting at him, hissing in his ears, and goading him on. Draco paled, how was he supposed to do this. Where was Snape?

Dumbledore’s soft voice cut through the garbled sounds, “Draco, please.” 

Draco closed his eyes in anguish. Those words weren’t spoken to him before. Opening his eyes, he clenched his jaw to keep from whimpering. He had to be strong and do this. Draco squared his shoulders. This was the only thing he could do, _follow the plan_. He jerked his head up in acceptance. Dumbledore closed his eyes.

_I am sorry._ Draco snapped his wand out and took a small step forward as the words slightly shaking as they escaped his lips, “Avada Kedavra.” The haunting green light shot from his wand and hit Dumbledore in the middle of his chest.

And Dumbledore fell.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Fucking, SHIT._ Draco followed the Death Eaters and Bellatrix down the stairs. Something happened. Between Harry mucking up time and Draco trying to fix it, they had made a mistake. _Snape was too late. Draco was the one who killed Dumbledore._ When his foot touched the grass, he heard it. Someone was calling him. _Harry._

“Walk faster, Draco,” Snape urged. He had come from the direction of the castle.

“Malfoy!” Harry’s voice rang out. He had to keep running. He couldn’t stop.

“Malfoy! I trusted you!” Keep running.

“DRACO!” His feet froze. _Run! MOVE YOUR FEET._ No. No. Snape noticed Draco had stopped running and whipped around.

“Move Draco,” he snapped, his voice almost growling, “or else all of this was for nothing.” Snape then went back the way they came, towards Harry’s voice.

“Sectumsempra!” Harry yelled.

“Expelliarmus! How dare you use my own spell against me,” Snape snarled.

“We trusted you. We trusted you to-“

“Potter, be very careful about what you say-“ Snape warned.

“Fuck. You.” A bright red light came from their direction followed by Snape’s form walking quickly back. And directly at Draco. Before Draco could open his mouth, Snape gripped his arm and apparated.


	16. The Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is finally back home for the summer. Unfortunately, it appears to have been overtaken by Death Eaters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys have been enjoying it so far and continue to enjoy it. It's really developed into a monster I wasn't expecting. It was only supposed to be one chapter and here I am updating chapter 16. Thank you for the kudos and bookmarks, it really inspires me to write more for this story instead of my original story.
> 
> My "beta" says I've been "hurting her feels."

Draco’s fingers ran along the spine of the book hidden in the lining of his jacket. The moment he and Snape apparated to the Manor a month ago, Draco had ran to his room and pulled all his jackets and robes and any other article of clothing he could find with a lining, and started cutting. In every single one, he cut a small hole barely big enough to slip his little black book through. That was the plan. He would write down everything. Snape and Dumbledore left their books at the school, in their respected offices, on a bookshelf. Hidden in plain sight. He wrote in his book every night. He would lie awake in his bed for hours, waiting until he couldn't hear any more movement from his mother or father, or anyone else that was occupying the manor that day. He would then wait at least 30 minutes more, just a precaution, before he unlocked his door to peek outside. When the coast was clear he closed the door, his fingers already locking it, and sat with his back against it. He wouldn’t take any chances. There was no telling who would be in the Manor in any given moment. 

Voldemort was using the Manor as his headquarters and a large number of Death Eaters were constantly popping in and out. Voldemort was a constant visitor to the Manor and Draco’s mother tried her best to always push Draco out of the room, unnoticed, whispering in his ear to go to his room and lock the door behind him. That didn’t stop Voldemort from ordering him to do his bidding. Draco had to attend every meal that The Dark Lord attended. He had to assist Snape in brewing and administering potions. This included Veritaserum and slow acting poisons to the captured wizards and healing potions to the wounded Death Eaters and wizards needed for interrogation. Draco must go on the hunting raids when he is not needed to brew. He hasn’t had to yet, but it was only a matter of time.

It must have been a week since Hermione wrote him that there was a wedding, the Beauxbatons Champion from the Triwizard Tournament to one of the older Weasleys. A week since they fought Death Eaters in a muggle town after being ambushed at that wedding. An ambush Draco hadn’t heard about. Draco stared at the blank page. A week since Harry’s birthday. Draco was determined to become more involved after that. He even went to Snape, who had _known,_ about it _._ Draco had been furious with him until Snape explained that if Draco warned them, then it would have been suspicious. And, if Draco was dead now, who would help the trio survive? But this new information was important. He had to tell them what he learned today. He had to let them know that Umbridge had a Horcrux. He made his decision. _August 4th, 1997; Umbridge-Hox @ MOM._ Draco closed the book and walked back to his bed. Hopefully, they weren’t stupid.

He wakes up the following morning and checks the book. Hermione wrote back; _August 5th, 1997: Monit-MOM._

It was the 14th when Draco was instructed by Jugson, a very ugly and very bald man, to see to the “guests” in the dungeons.

“What do I look like, a house elf?” Draco sneered loudly at Jugson as he snatched the small tray, of what barely passed as a meal, off the counter behind Jugson. “I have much more important matters to deal with, Jugson. Wasn’t Wormtail responsible for them?” Draco complained loudly. Judson turned his back to Draco giving him the opportunity to grab two extra bread rolls from the table, slipping them into his pockets.

“No need ta get all snippy wit me, Malfoy. Greyback says it’s the Dark Lords orders,” Jugson took a bite of a roll of bread as he spoke, “bes’ watch yer tone wit me. Just cus yous a Malfoy don’t mean I ain’t above cursin’ ya ‘till you scream.” 

“Fucking nutter,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes and walked away. Draco had been sneaking Ollivander and the goblin extra bits of food whenever the manor was empty save for his mother, which was at least once or twice a week. Draco bit his bottom lip. If he was going to be assigned to checking up on them, it would mean he could smuggle them extra food more often.

It was dark when he reached the bottom of the stairs. Putting the tray down, Draco took out his wand and he whispered “Lumos.” Draco hated being down here. He was about to call out to Ollivander but something in the corner reflected the light and caught his eye. He expected to see Ollivander behind the metal bars. It was what he didn’t expect to see that made his stomach drop. 

There, in the back corner of the room, was Luna Lovegood, her stupid necklace being what caught his attention. Her blond hair hung loose about her face, matted with dirt and tangled with debris. She was sporting a split lip and a dark bruise just under her left eye. Draco had to close his eyes and count to ten. He couldn’t give away that he knew her. He couldn’t give away that this affected him. Indifference and annoyance would give him opportunity to save them. Draco took a deep breath, digging his hands into his pockets to retrieve the bread.

“Ollivander,” Draco barked, placing the slightly squished rolls onto the tray and pushing it through the bars. He kept his gaze fixed on Lovegood, her head snapping up in recognition. She smiled at him. How could she smile at him? The bigger question was, why wasn’t she dead yet? Ollivander made his way over and picked up the tray, not saying a word. “When did she get here?” Draco whispered when Ollivander stood up with the tray in hand. Ollivander met his eyes and mouthed the words “two days.” That would make sense. Draco hadn’t had the opportunity to come down here for at least five days. Death Eater traffic having picked up. They must have been planning and executing more raids. They had been capturing and detaining wizards for short periods of time before they were ultimately executed. Draco sighed, Lovegood was the first Hogwarts student. He remembered seeing her hang around the Golden Trio back at school. Were they targeting students now for information? Or was it to gain leverage on their parents to align themselves with Voldemorts? Either way, it was possible that it meant Harry was still slipping through their grasp. Gathering people that were known accomplices of Harry Potter was just the next logical step. But then again, didn’t her father own The Quibbler? The magazine had been persistently publishing Harry support. That could have gotten the Death Eater’s attention. Draco nodded to Ollivander, who coughed when he tilted his head in acknowledgement. Draco stood there a moment longer, watching Lovegood watch him. She was observing him as much as he was observing her. He remembered Pansy talking about Lovegood. Looney Lovegood, she had called her. Innocent, naïve and utterly oblivious to her own house picking on her. Draco ran his fingers through his hair. If he had had any doubts before, the fact that a young pureblood wizard was down here, would have convinced him that he was doing the right thing.He shook his head and left before he did something that could put them all in danger.

_____________________

Draco found himself in the dungeons two days later. He was alone in the lab finishing brewing a few potions. The manor was empty except for his mother, who was currently pacing in her room. The rest of the occupants had gone out on a hunt for muggle-borns. Draco slipped a potion vial from the cabinet into his pocket before heading to the kitchen to make two sandwiches and placed two glasses of water on a tray. Levitating the tray, he tried to think of a way to get Lovegood to talk to him. Maybe she’s been in touch with the Order, or better yet, maybe she’d heard from the trio. She had been part of Dumbledore’s Army. Draco stopped at the top of the stairs. He had a coin too, maybe he could… he shook his head. No, no he can’t send a message to Harry. That would be reckless, dangerous, and selfish. Loud, strangled coughing brought him back from his thoughts. Draco walked down the stairs, the tray of food levitating in front of him until he reached the door. Draco made sure to carefully place the tray on the floor before whispering “Lumos.” The soft light lit up the space around him enough for him to unlock the door. Taking the tray with him, Draco quietly slipped inside and placed the tray on the floor near the wall.

“Ollivander,” Draco said quietly. He didn’t want to startle the old man if he was asleep. He called again when there was no answer.

“Draco?” a soft feminine voice asked. Draco rubbed his eyes, how was this girl alive? “That is you isn’t it?” Lovegood questioned, “what are you doing here?”

“Where is Ollivander?” Draco whispered harshly.

“I’m here, Malfoy,” Ollivander called, his voice sounded like sandpaper. “It’s rare to see you again so soon.” Draco flicked his wand up sending the ball of light up to the ceiling. He looked to the direction of Ollivander’s voice and saw him sitting in the far corner. His face was paler than the last time Draco was here and there were tremors in his hands. Could have been the cold but it could be a sign of an illness. 

“Drink this,” Draco placed the vial into Ollivander’s hand, “it’ll keep you from dying from whatever it is you’ve contracted. Accio sandwich and water glass,” he waved his wand. Draco caught the sandwich and glass of water that flew over to him. “I can’t stay long.” Ollivander nods and starts to eat. “That means you too, Lovegood.” Draco finally glanced over to her. She was standing by the tray, watching him. “It’s not poisoned,” Draco snapped.

“Oh, I know,” Lovegood said softly. “I was merely wondering why you are risking your life to us.” She sat down and ate her sandwich. 

_Why indeed,_ Draco thought.

Once they finished Draco Vanished the glasses and the tray.

“I’ll try to come back tomorrow, I don’t know how long they will be gone this time.”

“Do try to keep yourself safe, young Malfoy,” Ollivander said.

“Try to sleep more old man,” Draco headed to the door to leave but Lovegood’s calm voice stopped him.

“You have a bad infestation of Juunops down here. They steal the heat in the room. It’s why it’s so cold down here.” Lovegood commented casually.

_What. The. Hell?_

“I am curious,” Lovegood smiled, “when did you realize?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Lovegood,” Draco glared at her.

“Luna and yes you do,” she insisted. When he didn’t respond, she added, “you stopped joining me in joint Potions this year.”

_Do not respond._ Draco walked through the door and turned to lock it.

“During the DA, I always knew we would be friends,” Lovegood she got up and walked over to him. She pressed her face to the bars, her fingers wrapping around them. “You returned my shoes last year. From the support beams in the corridor by the Great Hall.” Lovegood pushed her face a bit more into the bars, as if she was trying to push her head through the bars. Her cheek was squishing her mouth slightly.

“Shut up.” Draco gridded out, clenching his jaw.

“We’re friends, Draco,” she said wistfully, “when did you lose them?” 

Draco felt the color drain from his face. He didn’t dare to even breathe. What did she just say? 

Lovegood’s voice dropped to just above a whisper, her words drifting out on an exhale. “You don’t remember do you?” Draco’s thoughts started to race, did Luna Lovegood know more that he thought? Did she just figure it out? Had she known him at school? Or worse, had someone Imperio’d her? Could it be Voldemort behind those large, blue, doe eyes? Draco laughed at how possible it was.

“I don’t wonder why they call you Loony Lovegood anymore. You have to be crazy,” He said instead to cover his internal panic.

“It’s ok to be scared, Draco. We’ll get out of here.”

“How can you be so optimistic when you are literally rotting away in a dungeon waiting for slaughter. I'm not your friend. I am a death eater. I am not here to be friends. I am just trying to establish an out in case things go south for me. You are my backup plan. I am not being nice, I am being logical. You now owe me a life debt for keeping you alive,” Draco explained angrily.

“You aren't fooling anyone, Draco.”

“Don't call me that!” Draco yelled, slamming his hands against the bars on either side of Lovegood’s head. She didn’t even blink. She was just watching him, her eyes softening, her lips tilting town to one side. Draco let out an aggravated sound and left.

_______________

Draco returned the following night with two sandwiches, two glasses of water, and two small vials. Draco made a beeline over to Luna and abruptly sat down next to her. Bellatrix had summoned him to watch as she Crucio’d Luna over and over and over again. She laughed as Luna’s body trembled between each spell, claiming he could “learn something useful” from her demonstration. With every Crucio, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if in the past, the other time, if he’d been assigned to interrogation. When Luna’s heavy panting was the only sound, was it him that had been on the other side of the wand, smiling like a wild animal? For hours he was forced to listen to her scream. He keep his eyes open, trained on her, watching. It was the least he could do. He was too much of a coward to intervene. Too much of a coward to step in, to disarm Bellatrix and at least _try_ to rescue her. Did he torture muggleborn wizards? Did he kill them? Was Yaxley doing the job that should have been Draco’s? Luna scooted closer to Draco, resting her head against his shoulder. They don’t have to talk about it, talking wasn’t going to change what had happened. The only physical proof of her torture were the slight twitching her muscles would do every few minutes. Was Draco the one that was supposed to do this to her? Did Draco do this the last time?

Over the next few days, Draco went to the dungeons. Draco would stay for an hour, no more, no less, to avoid being caught down there. He would always bring food, water, and mild healing potions (just enough to take the edge off of the pain but not enough to draw attention). Ollivander’s deep cough had subsided and he seemed to be able to move around the cell more. Unfortunately, Luna had been taken out of the cell and brought to the drawing room for continued interrogation. Bellatrix and Yaxley both demanded that Draco joined them. Draco wasn’t stupid, he knew that they had guessed that he knew Luna from school. Bellatrix was teaching him, preparing him. It was clear to Draco that she wanted him to “interrogate” Luna eventually. He was dreading the day that Bellatrix would turn to him, grinning wide, and just like at the Astronomy tower, whisper in his ear, “do it, Draco” while Yaxley insulted him in the background. Would he be able to do it when the time came? Or would he give up his cover, expose his true allegiance? Again, time was not on his side.

But for now, Draco would still visit the dungeons as often as _time_ would allow. Every night he came, he sat next to Luna and listen as she talked about anything and everything that came to mind. The girl had absolutely no filter. She would ask him about his day, his favorite color, did he ever own pink socks? She would ask Ollivander of wands and what was his favorite food, where was he from, did he ever get the infestation of wood sprites out of his shop? She was always smiling softly when she spoke and had a far away look in her eyes. Almost as if she was looking out a window that wasn’t there. He found himself talking almost as much as she did. It was strange, he couldn’t explain why it was so easy to sit there and talk to her. He made sure not to mention anything that gave him away. He did notice that she never touched the subject of school or asked why he was helping them. He never asked her what she meant the first night she was there. He could only assume that they had been acquaintances, if not friends before he had been Obliviated. Draco also couldn’t risk Ollivander knowing anything more than he already did. Draco knew it was a risk coming down there at all, especially with the two prisoners being tortured for information. He was lucky that Ollivander was only tortured by Voldemort himself and that Luna was only asked questions about Harry Potter and The Order of Phoenix. He knew that even before he was Obliviated, knew of his involvement. As long as he didn’t slip up now and just played off his visits ashis conscious.

After a week of the vigorous torture, it was getting harder and harder for Draco to stand next to Bellatrix as she tortured Luna. Both Bellatrix and Yaxley had gotten bored with the Cruciatus Curse and expanded to spells that made his skin crawl. Broken bones, peeling skin, and cuts that reached the bone. Draco was instructed to give Luna a healing potion after every session to keep her useful. During their interactions, Luna carefully avoided looking at him and he distanced himself from her as he roughly poured the solution down her throat. By the end of the week, Luna told him that she was slowly losing feeling in her right arm. Nonchalant and with a smile. Draco was starting to hate that smile. He was starting to pick out the ones that were too sad to be real.

Draco was sitting in the gardens trying to figure out how he was going to keep Luna from losing function in her fingers when his father called for him.

“Draco, you have a task,” his father said as he came to stand next to Draco, “we need a few extra hands on this run. We can not afford to be unprepared.” He sounded relieved, like they had found someone they’ve been looking for. Draco prayed to whoever the fuck was watching this all happen that it wasn’t Harry Potter.

———————————————————-

When the Death Eater team had gathered, they were told that there was a wizard held up in the woods to the North of Bristol. It was “need to know” and apparently they didn’t “need to know” who it was but were assured that they “would know who” the target was once they got there. Draco had to make a conscious effort not to roll his eyes. It was for “security and security” reasons. Security for the mission and security that the target wouldn’t be informed. This only proved that The Dark Lord was suspecting a mole among his ranks. Draco smirked to himself. He had caused that paranoia, and Snape. It also meant that he and Snape were safe. Voldemort didn’t know who it was.

They were smarter than Draco gave them credit for. The plan was simple and precise for limited error and maximum understanding. Their prerogative was to subdue and capture the subject. Keyword: Alive. So, obviously, they had potential information. Draco crossed his arms, his fingers brushing against the book in his jacket. What if it was another classmate? Maybe one of those Gryffindors that were constantly seen with Harry? Or the son of the Order members that Bellatrix loved to boast about. Or an actual Order member. As Lucius grabbed his arm, Draco grabbed his chest. Draco felt that familiar pull at his belly-button. _Please, not Potter._

When Draco and his father apparated in, the forest was eerily quiet. The only evidence of the slow sweep was the crunching of leaves and twigs underfoot. Lucius pulled Draco behind a tree with him.

“They are hiding in the forest. We’ve tracked them this far,” his father whispered harshly. His voice slightly softened as he continued “keep an eye out. Be careful, do not underestimate them,” before stepping out from behind the tree. Draco rubbed his chest as he took a deep breath and walked in the opposite direction of his father and the rest of the Death Eaters. If they were going one way, then the likely hood of the person having moved from their previous spot was more likely.

Just as he reached a clearing, a hand shot out and grabbed his arm. He was yanked roughly to the right, his wand coming up automatically. His stomach dropped when he came face to face with the person they were after. He shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Why are you here?” Hermione goddamn Granger whispered angrily. She looked like she’s been on her own for a while. Dirt, blood, cuts, and bruises decorated the exposed skin. He shuttered to think about the ones he couldn’t see. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained. Why was she alone? She was terrifying and magnificent all the same. Draco was convinced that she would have still given off the aura of a dragon if she was stripped of her wand and locked in a cage. _Stop it._

“Why the hell do you think, Granger”, Draco said quietly as he straightened up. “Why are you here? Where the fuck is Potter and Weasley? Why are you-“ The look in her eye when she glared at him reminded him of when she punched him in the nose in third year. 

“How many are there?” She asked sharply, her hair was wilder than ever. She never looked more Gryffindor than she did at that moment. A lion ready to strike out at any moment. 

“Too many for you to continue to take on,” Draco stated. She started pacing in a small line from side to side. As she walked, Draco noticed that her left side was delayed by half a second.

“I beg to differ,” she grunted out from her musings, “there can’t be more than a dozen of you.”

“I know,” Draco conceded. “How long do you think you can really last?” He was met with silence. Hermione grimaced.

“Realistically? An hour, maybe two,” her voice slightly shook when she spoke, “they’ve been chasing me the past couple days,” she laughed out, running a hand through her hair. She was holding two wands. “We could apparate.”

“I can’t. Even if we could apparate out, I can’t go. Luna is at the Manor. I can’t just-“ he stopped. He thought he heard something, his voice dropping “how far is your cloaking charm?”

“Maybe a few yards wide… It should keep us hidden and a Notice-Me-Not spell is laced into it. So unless someone stumbles into it, they won't come in.”

“Do you have the book?” Hermione shook her head.

“Harry has it,” she admitted.

“What?” 

"I can't explain now. We have more pressing matters to deal with."

Just then, a shrill screaming echoed in the area. 

“I - Shit,” Hermione shoved Draco down and caught the spell in her shoulder. Draco could smell her flesh burn. The cloaking charm started to waver. He didn’t want to think about the blood soaking her shirt or the obvious way she was favoring her left side as she stood. “Someone's inside. It's not big enough for us to hide. I’m going to run,” she panted out in defeat. They both know she wasn’t going to make it.

“I have to stun you. It’ll look-“

“Suspicious if I get away.”

“They also don’t exactly exhibit… restraint when capturing subjects…” Draco shuddered, a flash of a critically bleeding wizard they’d brought back to him to keep from dying. His arm had been blown off and the obvious source of his near death state.

“I know,” She smiled weakly. “It’s ok.” They stood, Draco moving back to where he entered from. “Ready?” she asked. Draco nodded. She bolted and Draco counted to ten before running after her. She was still not going down without a fight, no matter who caught her, that much was clear. She was throwing spells over her shoulder as she jumped over logs and ducked under branches. The spells precise and effective, causing trees to blow up and sending Death Eaters to the ground. He could hear them catching up and throwing back their own spells. Draco was closest to her, he could get her without harm. Thinking fast, Draco took the higher ground, running on along a tree that had fallen. He raised his wand, hoping that his spell would reach her before anyone else’s, but then a spell collided with his back. Fucking idiots can’t even aim properly. Or they did it on purpose. It wouldn’t have surprised him. He kept running, ignoring the slight rigid feeling creeping down his spine. He jumped and tackled Hermione to the ground. She punched him in the face and kicked him in the gut before she realized it was him. It didn’t stop her struggles, there was just a brief recognition in her eyes before she fought harder. They loud running footsteps were getting louder. He pointed his wand at her face. She grabbed the front of his jacket with both hands.

“Densaugeo,” he whispered. Her teeth instantly started to grow and grow and grow until he was satisfied with the difference and canceled it. There wasn’t enough time, the footsteps were getting closer. “Stimulus,” the spell caught her in the face and she winced as the stinging spell caused massive swelling. Draco stood up, pointed his wand at her chest and yelled “Stupify!” He was panting heavily as he stood above her, his wand still pointed at her. He’d done it. He’d captured her before anyone else could harm her. A hand on his shoulder startled him.

“Well done, Draco.” His father said proudly. Draco placed his hand on Hermione’s back. His father apparated them back to the Manor.

_____________________

When they arrived, Lucius placed his hand on Draco’s head gently. Draco looked up, his vision swimming. His chest felt wet.

“For gods sake,” Lucius shook his head, clearly angry. For a moment, Draco thought it was directed at him until he said, “Draco, your nose is bleeding. Hold still.” Draco stood and glanced at his shirt to see blood. Hermione still knew how to punch him in the face. Draco inhaled sharply when his father’s fingers delicately felt the bridge of his nose. “It’s broken. This is unacceptable. Malfoy's have always had perfect noses.” Draco was finding it too hard to breath to find his father even slightly amusing. Draco offered him a weak smile. Lucius raised his wand, “Episkey.” Draco groaned as his nose popped back into place. Lucas’s fingers gently held his chin as he turned Draco’s face this way and that. “Good as new,” his mouth twitched slightly, letting his face go. “I have a feeling out luck is turning around, Draco. We will return to our Lords good graces, yet,” Lucius glanced at Hermione’s still unmoving body. “WORMTAIL,” Lucius beckoned. “Go wash up, Draco. You are looking rather pale,” Luciussaid as Wormtail appeared in the room. “Perhaps it would be best to take a Pepperup potion and I’ll send Snape to look in on you.” 

“Maybe I need to see Snape now,” Draco wheezed, “I was hit with a spell.” Draco wobbled, his father grabbing his arms to steady him.

“Find Snape. Now,” Lucius ordered Wormtail.

“I am here, Lucius, what is it that you acquire?” Snape inquired as he walked through the fireplace.

“Draco’s been hit by a spell and is having difficulty breathing,” Lucius said.

“How unfortunate,” Snape responded, “bring him to his room. I will meet you there,” he disapparated.

Once Lucius had helped Draco to his room, he stood at the door.

“I have some business to attend to. Inform me the moment you are well. You are needed.” Lucas’s hand ran through Draco’s hair affectionately before it dropped limply by his side. Draco nodded numbly. Once the door was shut, he walked unsteadily to lock it. He panted as he collapsed onto his bed. What was he going to do? Hermione was here but where was Weasley and Harry? Why was she alone? What had happened? What was going to happen? This wasn’t part of his memories in the Pensieve. Has this happened? Draco suddenly sat up, wincing. Harry had the book. He gingerly took his jacket off to get the book from the inside. Draco’s eyes furrowed. He didn’t pull out the book but a small beaded handbag. _What the…_ Realization dawned on him. When Hermione grabbed him, she grabbed him by the front of his jacket. _Hermione, fuck._ Draco scratched his chest absentmindedly. _I can go through it later,_ he thought as he placed it back into the hole in his jacket. Taking a shuddering breath, Draco pulled out the little black book.

‘August 30th: Snitch-Idiot Glow Worm is here. ALONE.’ He stared at the page. _Write back. Write back right now, you fucking asshole. If you really are the Savior of the Wizarding World you'd fucking-_ There was a knock at the door and Draco’s heart stopped. Scrambling, Draco shoved the ink, quill, and book into his jacket, leaving it on the bed. Thank Merlin he locked that fucking door.

“What?” he snapped angrily.

“Open the door,” followed by an aggravated sigh. 

“Go away.”

“Draco, open this door this instance,” Snape demanded. Huffing, Draco got up and unlocked the door.

“I’m fine,” Draco walked away stubbornly, holding his breath so Snape wouldn’t notice his struggle. Snape shut and locked the door behind him.

“Take off your shirt and turn back around.” Snape directed. Draco shot him a glare before foregoing unbuttoning and pulling his shirt over his head.

“See,” he said turning his back to Snape, “there’s nothing wrong-“ Draco cringed when Snape pushed on the left side of his back. Snape ignored him as he continued to poke and prod. Draco’s hands balled into fists at his side.

“Do try to relax,” Draco grunted an affirmative, he didn’t trust his voice. “You have severe bruising. Drink this,” Snape handed him a vile, “it’ll take some of the pain off. It looks like you may have a broken rib or two. The muscles in your back have seized quite a bit. The spell used, did you hear her?” Snape questioned.

“It wasn’t…” Draco swallowed uneasily. He was starting to feel dizzy. He stared down at the floor for a moment to steady himself before downing the potion. _Disgusting._ Snape simply nodded in understanding as he inspected Draco’s back. He sighed, now that Snape had messed with it further, the pain was undeniable but the potion was quickly helping.

“That changes the possibilities. Bombarda or Confractus seems likely,” Snape moved away from him, “good news is that you aren’t going to die.”

“I am. Over. Joyed.” Draco panted.

““Stop being a prat, Draco, and just stand still. Breath as normally as you can.” Draco nodded quickly and shut his eyes, concentrating on breathing. He could hear Snape muttering to himself about “Incompetent, ill-trained, bumbling idiots” before he felt Snape’s magic stretch over his skin and absorbing. He felt the air leave his lungs as the broken ribs popped back into place. “Do you not understand what ‘breath normally’ entails? You are not making it easier on yourself.” Draco made a strangled noise as he felt his lungs suddenly expand fully. Tilting his face up to the ceiling, he sighed in relief.

““Shut up,” Draco grumbled, putting on his shirt. “Why are you here? Don’t you have ‘things’ to do?” he said vaguely, they never know who could be eavesdropping on them.

“The stiffness in your legs should go away soon,” Snape messaged his temples in aggravation. “They want you and me to see if the girl in the cellar is one, Hermione Granger,” he stopped Draco’s protests with a stern look. “She’s the appropriate school age. They might not recognize her but if she’s school age, then the only place to go in the area is Hogwarts. She’s repeatedly told them that she’s half-blood, one Penelope Clearwater.” Snape smirked, “stupid girl.”

“Smart enough to elude us for the entire summer.”

“Not enough to stay hidden till the end,” Snape sighed. For the briefest of moments, Draco could have sworn he actually looked sad. Snape headed for the door, “you have five minutes to come downstairs. The sitting room,” and left. 

Draco let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. How would he do this? How was he going to do this? He had to lie, obviously, that part was a given. But how was he going to get away with lying when not even a week ago Hermione’s name was all over the papers. He hadn’t planned for it to be Hermione. He didn’t even think that it could have been her. He just assumed that the Golden Trio would be safe because they were together. He’d been wrong. So bloody wrong. Draco punched the wall, “Shit.” He was going to have to wing it. Picking up his jacket from his bed, he put it on and walked down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! Let me know what you guys think!


	17. The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Hermione is captured, where are the other two? Draco is put in a situation he hates, but what else is new?

Draco froze at the bottom of the stairs and squeezed his eyes shut. Snape was an idiot. They already know Hermione is Hermione. They didn’t need him or Snape for identification. Her photo was in the paper a week ago. It mentioned her connection with Harry. Draco pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. They were calling them, calling him, to torture her. To cause her so much pain she wished they'd killed her until she gives up her information. Draco’s right shoulder twitches as he hears a whisper of his own voice, cold and blunt, _you have to go. What are you doing? Proving them right?_ Taking a deep breath, Draco enters the room. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. Bellatrix’s back was to him, Hermione a silent lump in the middle of the floor, her massive hair covering her face.

“Draco, dear! what a lovely surprise,” Bellatrix smiled when she turned, obviously pleased by their luck. Her voice was a little too bright that it put Draco on edge.

“You called for me, didn’t you?” Draco snapped, looking around. Snape wasn’t here.

“I did. You have a rather important day today,” she came over to him, a bounce in her every step, obviously excited. ““Snape was called away by The Dark Lord. It’s very unfortunate,” she smiled at him. Draco thought she was trying to be encouraging but she the smile only caused him to worry. “He’s going to miss your first interrogation on your own. You may recognize your first capture,” she pulled Hermione’s hair back and exposed her face, “Harry Potter’s Mudblood friend,” she waited for a reaction and Draco was not going to give her the satisfaction.

“What do you mean?” Draco was careful to keep his voice even. He had to be careful.

“Don’t be like that. It’s the perfect opportunity to test out your new-found place as a real Death Eater,” she had circled around him, ushering him over to stand near Hermione. Hermione shrank away from their steps but continued to stay quite.

“I have better things to do than your job,” Draco roughly shook Bellatrix off him. He was in the process of turning when he realized his mistake. His voice was a little to high, a little too desperate. _She knows,_ his own voice jabs at him, _she knows at it’s your fault._

“Today, this is your job,” she snapped angrily before she caught herself and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, this will be easy compared to killing Dumbledore,” he hates the way she’s talking, casually as if she’s discussing feeding a pet. “This will be so easy,” her voice elongating the word ‘easy.’ He had to fight the disgusted shudder running down his body. He stayed silent, not trusting his voice to be strong enough. “Why do you think you’ve been standing in on the others? For fun?” He heard Hermione move. His eyes focused on Bellatrix, who was grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Draco cursed silently, Hermione must have looked up at them, “You’re smarter than that,”she tisked, “This is your initiation, Draco! Enjoy it.”

Draco didn’t say anything when she moved away to stand on the other side of the room, her eyes wide and expecting. His eyes finally landed on Hermione. Her eyes were wide too, but with horror. She knew he had to. She was smarter than that as well. He couldn’t get out of this. He could feel the tremor starting in his arm. _What are you doing?_ Draco gripped his wand tightly. He could feel his skin stretching across his knuckles. _If you keep standing here looking stupid, they are going to find out_ his head ticked to the side minutely. _They already know. You're a dead man._ The muscles in his neck hurt. _Do it. Do it before they know._

"Crusio." The word practically falls out of his mouth and straight to the floor. He knows. He knows at that instant that nothing is-

Hermione is withering on the floor.

She is groaning and twitching in pain and all he wants to do is laugh. She's saving him. The girl that's a prisoner is saving him. He has to clench his jaw to keep from smiling at her genius. Not excessive because everyone judges him as weak.

He slowly lowers his wand to give her enough time to realize she can stop pretending.

 The next time, they might not be so lucky. 

__________________

“Why are you here alone? Where are they?” Draco demands. After he had left, they had thrown Hermione in with the others. He was thankful for the limited basement space. The Manor may have been large but the cellar was only one large room and they hadn't taken the time to section it off to keep the captives separated. He had arrived an hour ago and tended to Luna and Olivander. Luna was going to lose the feeling in her right armby the time this was all over if the tingling pain in her fingers didn’t get properly fixed. Draco would be lying if he said it wasn’t constantly at the back of his mind.

“I left,” Hermione said simply, “how is your nose? I did break it, didn’t I?” she reached across and touched his nose. Draco batted her hands away. She sat back on her heels and placed her hands on her knees.

“Stop redirecting,” Hermione sighed and slumped her shoulders forward as she hugged herself.

“I had to leave. I couldn’t stand them any longer,” she said sternly to her lap.

“Hermione,” he said softly, placing his hand over hers. She seemed to shrink smaller into herself. She looked over at Luna, who was sleeping next to Olivander to stay warm, as she spoke.

“We were gathering ….and one of them, a locket, just ate at us until Ron left. Ron was angry, so angry at us. He thought… But I could never, I…” Hermione took a breath, “Ron left and it was just Harry and I. He kept saying how it was just the same, that he wasn't changing anything. That I was slowing him down. That it was my fault. That is was his fault for letting us tag along just like last time. We argued, a lot. He was dwelling on what had happened in the bathroom. That it was my fault you could still remember. Why did I help you?” she was crying, “I told him that he shouldn’t have come back. That he was being stupid, he’s going to ruin everything. He should have just let you die.” Her voice was trembling when she continued, “he left. He turned away from me and left. I’ve been running from Snatchers for so long. It was only a matter of time before they cornered me,” a watery laugh escaped her as she wiped at her eyes, “at least you were there, right? That’s pretty lucky.”

“Only because you’re terrifying,” Draco patted her hand to divert his attention from the voice whispering, _this is your fault._ How could Harry leave her because of what Draco did by himself? When did Harry change into this person? Was it his fault that Harry blamed Hermione for helping him? “It’s my fault,” he told her. He was proud of himself for keeping his rage in check. Why was Harry still being so reckless and putting them all in danger? He was so mad, his knee was bouncing. _He is such an idiot. I should have died on that tower._

He stayed until he couldn’t sit still anymore. 

—————————————————

It was all his fault.

He couldn’t sleep. He was just too fed up and too frustrated about the entire situation. Of course, they called him in to “interrogate" Hermione again.

He needed to learn how to control his emotions better. He was so full of pent up anger and pure rage toward Harry that he could practically see himself hexing Harry into the ground. For a moment, he forgot who he was aiming at and his outrage between his teeth biting off the end of “Crusio,” the curse hitting its mark.

And Hermione is screaming.

The moment he realizes it, he knows he can't stop. He saw it the moment she realized she wasn't going to have to pretend. The fear in her eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life and he wanted to look away. He wouldn’t let himself look away. His fingers twitched. _Look at her,_ when his fingers twitched again he balled his hand into a tight fist and pressed it against his leg, he could feel his nails digging into his palm. He tilted his head to the side, toward a voice that wasn't there, _you are doing this to her._ He clenched his jaw, _how does it feel?_ His head twitched to the other side, _to be a real death eater?_ He focused on a point behind Hermione's head to keep from shaking any more than he already was. He concentrated hard enough to block out her screams _You're  enjoying this._ His eyes snapped back to Hermione and his heart stopped. He felt his lungs struggling to breathe as the sound rushed into his ears at a crushing volume. She was still screaming as she withered and begged for it to stop. The others laughing and encouraging him, complimenting him. He didn’t realize that Bellatrix wasn’t alone until that moment. _Aren’t you?_

Draco dropped his hand, severing the spell off and Hermione's screams. All he could hear was her painful sobbing and whimpers between panted breaths that seemed to echo in his head.

The echo was him. He excused himself, making an excuse about a potion. Their laughs followed him as he walked as calmly as possible down the call and up the stairs before he made it to his room, locked the door, cast a silencing spell, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all enjoying it so far! Please let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always welcomed!


	18. The Next Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for the lack of updating and the brevity of this chapter. My muse hasn't been cooperating for a while and it's been a struggle. Hopefully the next chapter will work itself out sooner and be longer than this.  
> Thank you for sticking with me.

Draco forced himself out of bed and down to the cellar. He had to, no matter how difficult it was to face her, he had to make sure they would survive until he came back. With everything going on, he had forgotten the date. He stopped at the top of the stairs, he could feel his leg shaking slightly. Draco clenched his jaw. He had to stop this. He had to get it together. He wasn’t the one that was withering on the floor for hours. _Pathetic._ After he practically ran to his room, he just had to listen. _You are pathetic._ Just like when he first arrived back home at the beginning of the summer. Before he had to participate. Hermione’s voice was just another to add to his growing collection. Taking a deep breath, Draco descended the stairs and opened the gate. 

“Hello Draco,” Luna greeted softly. She was standing in the middle of the room doing god knows what. Draco didn’t trust his voice and slightly smiled in return. He walked straight to the back of the large cellar and behind a pillar. This would be the perfect spot. None of the other people in the Manor would every think to do a sweep of the cellar. No one would dare turn traitor now. _Until they find you out._ Draco shook his head as he crouched down and took out his wand and tapped the stones four times.

“Occultus cellula,” he whispered. The stones vibrated before sinking backward to create a small square hole. 

“Are you going to put what you have in your pocket in there?” Draco jumped at the sound of Luna’s voice directly in his ear. Draco rubbed his hand over his face. Did she have to stand so close to him?

“I just want to make holes in the walls,” Draco responded with sarcasm out of reflex. He could feel the warmth from Luna’s body on his back as he placed a dozen vials of potions into the square. “There should be enough to last you until…” his whisper trailed off and he felt Luna’s fingers trace the seam of his shirt.

“You’re leaving,” she whispered, “it’s ok Draco. We don’t blame you.” _She doesn’t blame you._ The unspoken words did little to reassure him. Luna’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, her chin resting on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”

“Hogwarts. I have to…I’m expected to be there.” Draco glared at the potions lined up in six little rows as he spoke, “it’s first term.” Luna placed both index fingers between his eyebrows.

“You’re going to get premature wrinkles you know. You frown too much.” He could hear Luna’s smile in her words as the rest of her fingers followed, slowly her hands covered his eyes. Her voice was barely audible, “she wants to talk to you. I promise.” As soon as Luna left his back, he missed it. _Why are you so pathetic. She’s still in here because you are a coward._ “I have some feeling back in my fingers.” Luna had walked back over to the center of the room. Draco waved his wand, “absconde.” Stone covered the hole and he exhaled. Hopefully, this worked. Draco knew the shelf would stay but he wasn’t as good in Charms as he was in Transfiguration. He had spent every free minute practicing the spell once he had found out he was leaving to ensure the maximum probability of success. He slowly raised his hand and hesitated before pushing his hand through the stone, _It worked!_ His fingers brushed a vial and he pulled out a potion. Placing the vial back, he stood and leaned his forehead against the pillar. This had to work. If it didn’t, he wasn’t sure how long they would last without permanent damage.

As he made his way over to the three figures now sitting against the wall eating the food he brought, he placed his hand in the hole in the seam of his jacket. “I have your bag.”

Hermione’s head shot up. Bloodshot eyes and a dirt covered face. There was something about the way her eyes were alert and sharp that put him on edge. _She’s probably terrified of you now._

“Do you have anything that will help heal nerve damage?” Draco asked, trying to keep his voice steady. She kept her gaze even. Her breathing was calm. How could she be so calm staring at him? Was she planning something? _Probably planning on how to disarm you and escape. Leave you behind for the wolves._

“No.” Hermione stood up and made her way over to him. Shocked, Draco took a step back.

“I have to go,” Draco’s voice went slightly higher at the end as she got closer. “Tomorrow I-“ Hermione flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He was too surprised to react. Surprised that she would even be near him, let alone touch him. Her body was trembling. Her hands gripping the back of his shirt tightly. Draco’s arms were hovering in the air awkwardly. He swallowed as he spoke softly, “I won't be here until December.” His shoulder was becoming damp. Hermione was crying. Draco’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” his hands rested against her back in an awkward hug, his voice cracking, “I’m sorry.”


	19. The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is back at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. I apologize for my scarce and brief updates. Trying to get my personal motivation up but lately, it's been subpar and trust me, it's frustrating for me too. I hope that by this weekend, I will have everything sorted and start regularly updating with longer chapters.
> 
> Thank you for baring with me.

The train ride to Hogwarts was tense. As the train made it’s way to Hogwarts, Death Eaters were making rounds and checking every compartment looking for Harry Potter. The train was emptier than it used to be. Most students were kept home due to illness or went into hiding. Muggleborns weren't sent a letter at all. 

The chatter once they had arrived at Hogwarts was muted to mere whispers. There were still the excited first years, but even that was subdued. 

The Great Hall was silent when Snape rose to do the welcoming speech. He was the new headmaster and Draco knew that it was the last place he wanted to be. The staff had mixed emotions across the board. Some were smiling and others even refused to clap. Snape held his face void of emotion the entire time. 

Draco wasn’t _that_ scared of the dementors that currently surrounded the school. He was more concerned about the new staff, especially the Carrows. 

The Carrows were put in charge of all punishment. Deputy Headmasters. Draco leaned back on his bed. The other teachers were supposed to send students to them for detention when rules were broken but many didn’t. Draco didn’t blame them. They enjoyed torturing. The way their eyes lit up when they punished any Death Eaters that caused Voldemort to be displeased. He had witnessed it enough times in the Manor that summer. He couldn’t, he didn't want to imagine what they were doing to students. _Because you are a coward._

Draco was a prefect again this year. He could invoke detentions and take points away if he wanted. Which were a blessing and a curse. Draco neglected his “duties” as much as possible and when he had no choice, he’d assign them to Hagrid. Or McGonagall. Or Snape. Anyone but the Carrows.

Their sadistic ways made Draco nervous, especially because his father had disappointed Voldemort enough times that they just itched to get back at him. And if Draco was there, well, at least the Malfoy blood would be spilled one way or another. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had successfully killed Dumbledore, Draco would have already been left for slaughter.

It was a miracle that none of the students had died yet. That didn’t mean there weren't any close calls. Of course, the Slytherins were more well off than the rest, but that wasn’t saying much. Every student was terrified and they were running out of food. It was only October for Salazar's sake.

Draco closed his eyes. There wasn’t much he could do at this point other than continue to divert students to the other professors and even that wasn’t foolproof as of late. It was like the Death Eaters were following him around. Perhaps he could sneak into the kitchens and get a house elf to put them in the other dorms. But if they had a direct order not to… or a direct order to report anyone trying to steal food… Draco banged his head against his headboard.

“Draco?” Blaise’s groggy voice whispered. Draco froze _._ He didn't think he was being that loud. Draco stayed quiet hoping that he’d go back to sleep. “Lack of sleep causes premature wrinkles you know,” he yawned.

“Shut up,” Draco sighed. “I’m just… Thinking.”

“Dangerous thing, that,” Blaise said. Draco could hear him moving around and getting out of bed. 

“Zabini, you better get back into your own bed before I hex you six ways from Sunday,” Draco warned just as Blaise pulled back the curtains surrounding Draco’s bed.

“That is not how the saying goes, you know. Budge over,” Blaise shoved Draco’s legs out of the way, almost pushing him off his own bed, before pulling open the comforter and getting in.

“Please,” Draco said sarcastically, pulling the covers back over himself, “make yourself comfortable.”

“Already have,” Blaise settled and face away from Draco. 

Draco scoffed before he laid all the way down onto his back, his fingers running back and forth along the edge of the sheets. He could always feed Blaise to the hungry students. It would save him any future headaches and solve the food problem.

“Whatever your thinking, don’t. You've been a bit reckless. Don’t think we haven’t noticed,” Blaise yawned loudly. “Have you forgotten that you have us? Greengrass may be gone but the rest of us are still here.” He shook his head and pulled the blankets further up on his shoulder while muttering under his breath, “starting to act like an idiotic Gryffindor.”

Draco allowed himself a moment to just feel the soft warmth of another body next to him. He smiled slightly. Maybe Blaise was right… Maybe he didn’t have to do this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I leave you with a little happier note than the last. Draco's not as alone as he feels and, hopefully, things start looking up. But you never know. Time is funny like that.
> 
> I really do appreciate you all sticking with me this far. It's been crazy. It's been interesting. And the end isn't even on the horizon.


End file.
